


The Girlfriend Experience

by PAPERSK1N



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: CallGirl!AU, F/M, Finally getting back to turnwood, Fluff and Angst, Lingerie, Oral Sex, Prostitution, Relationship Status: It's Complicated, Romance, Semi-Explicit sexual content, Sex, Sexual Content, The Know, turnwood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-25
Updated: 2016-06-28
Packaged: 2018-06-04 11:36:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 29,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6656290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PAPERSK1N/pseuds/PAPERSK1N
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Meg's job is to provide a service. What that service entails exactly? Well, that's none of your god-damn business unless you're the one who's paying.</p><p>The Know is a business run by Ashley Jenkins providing the classiest trained professionals in the whole of the city. Meg is the star of the show with a list of clientele as tall and influential as the empire state building.</p><p>So, enter Ryan. He's like the other city boys she's used to dealing with: Wealthy and classy with beautiful things and a penchant for expensive cologne. Or at least, that's what Meg's expecting when he books her for a night.</p><p>Ryan's sort of full of surprises in that way, and Meg finds herself stuck in a precarious situation that can mean sudden death for a call girl's career in seconds. <em>The Girlfriend Experience</em>. Meg never does <em>The Girlfriend Experience</em>. Meg never catches feeling for her clients. Meg <em>never</em> breaks the rules.</p><p>Does she?</p><p>(Now officially Meg Turney + Ryan Haywood approved as of 13/09/2016 on meg n Ryan's mom n dad stream!!!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Liaison in New York City.

**Author's Note:**

> You asked for more turnwood, I provided! Really happy with the way this has all turned out, I have nearly finished the eight chapter on my laptop, so updates every monday! Hope you enjoy.

_ Part One: Liaison in New York City _

 

 

 

Meg loved the city and with its own cold and sharp-edged embrace, the city loved her too.

With her job, New York was the perfect place. Such a tiny slither of a city in a wisp of state that held so much life within it- from the western-seeking immigrants to the so-called natives living alike in their occasional harmony. Filthy sidewalks crawling with rats and tourists and roaches and regrets. Meg walked through the streets of filth and dreams and forgot about the dust and the pollution and the chewed gum stuck to the wall. And just the same, others walked both through and past her without a second look. In New York, nobody ever looked at anybody unless they wanted to be looked at. And even then, at times of dire commotion- it was a perfectly acceptable reaction to avert your eyes, stare at the floor, keep on walking.

And in her line of work, this was the kind of anonymity that she craved.

New York hadn’t always been her original choice on the basis of keeping hidden. As a child, all Meg really wanted was the exact opposite- to be _seen_. She grew up on the West Coast swamped under a giant family busting with siblings and cousins and aunts and uncles. And it was nice, always being surrounded by so much love and friendship, but growing up still she had always craved the idea of being the star of the show. She went for dance and theatre and anything else that would gain her recognition, and New York City became the magical city that she saw in movies where kids like her had their Broadway dreams come true.

New York wasn’t quite like that when she arrived and enrolled into NYU on a Media & Journalism course. She didn’t have enough rhythm to make it as a dancer, wasn’t tuned well enough to make it as a singer and her acting had been described as mediocre by a thousand casting agents at back-room auditions. Instead, she was fighting tooth and nail with thirty other girls just like her for an unpaid job interning at a magazine- and after two years and an almost completed, pointless degree, Meg had the gradual realisation that she wasn’t living anything close to her dream.

She met Ashley through school, oddly enough. She was the long-term girlfriend of Professor Burns, one of Meg’s regular teachers. She would hang around after class occasionally, waiting for Burns to pack up his stuff so they could head home. Why she took such an interest in Meg so quickly was baffling at first- but then Ashley explained what she did for a living. She explained that she never took in _Burnie’s_ students but for some reason- whatever _‘It’_ was, Meg had.

She didn’t understand at first, what Ashley was getting at. Then Ashley gave her a business card with her website- _The_ _Know_ printed in shiny black font and told her to consider a job opportunity with a wink.

It was ludicrous, in the beginning. An absolutely preposterous idea that she would ever even think about participating in such a business- such a tawdry, sleazy, _shameful_ occupation. No- she wouldn’t even consider it. What would even be the point in taking up Ashley’s offer for coffee after class to discuss business? Why would she ever dress in one of her most attractive looking outfits, high heels and expensive-looking jewellery to meet such a despicable woman? She certainly wouldn’t sit opposite Ashley for two hours on an impromptu interview, and she certainly didn’t order a _salad_ of all things and start thinking about watching her waistline.

The clients usually wanted a girl with a ‘good’ body- apparently. Clients wanted something unobtainable- something unreal to live into their own deep dark fantasises. Something had to be to the extreme, beauty, assets, intellect. Men- as most of the clients were- were always easy to please once you figured out exactly what it was they were after.

Ashley obviously knew her stuff- she’d been in the business for years apparently, working as a call-girl through her early twenties until she was experienced enough to found _The Know_ , her own personal agency that provided only the _highest class_ of services to the right buyer.

The first step to becoming an _escort_ \- as Ashley put it (prostitute was too obvious, Call-Girl was too demeaning, Hooker was far too sleazy) was to understand that everything they were doing was somehow _completely legal_.

“You provide a service.” Ashley explained, filling Meg’s details onto her laptop. “A companion for the evening- that’s what it says on the tin. The precise service you provide on that particular occasion- well, that’s not really anyone’s business but yours and theirs.” She smiled, and her grin was so natural and convincing that Meg couldn’t help but match it.

Six years later and here she was- living out (in a very skewed way) the dreams of her childhood. Being an escort meant you were the ultimate performer- and you were always the star of the show. She was a dancer, a singer, an _artiste_ at work. Ashley had taught her, right from the start that sex itself _was_ an art- a passion, and something magical to be able to experience with another person. And if she cashed in on that particular art form- she wouldn’t be the first.

Being an escort came with a fairly mixed bag of both privileges and hindrances. On the plus side- she made more money than she ever would staying in college for an extra few years trying to bust her ass for a master’s degree. And with money and flexible hours came lie ins, shopping trips to buy beautiful dresses and expensive lingerie ( _All_ work expenses, and contributed towards by one Ashley Jenkins). With money, came a beautiful high rise apartment- (necessary in case she ever started up in calls, which obviously she never would) and with legitimate _fans_ , came respect. She had her regulars, of course- but then she had her photos on the website and an over 75% demand rate from the first-time visitors. Her books were stocked with dates and times, but Ashley filtered it all down on her behalf to insist she only took in the cream of the crop and the guys and girls who tipped the most generously.

“You deserve it!” Ashley would laugh when Meg would collect her earnings every week. “Talent-wise, you were my big break. If it wasn’t for you- I wouldn’t be where I am now.”

Of course, with all the positives came the negatives. The lies, to friends and family about what she did (a night-time secretary for a big media company that always went unnamed), a pseudonym so clients couldn’t track her down and figure out who she was ( _Doll_ ) and a strictly limited social media presence (the _last_ thing she needed was somebody recognising her). The last two weren’t much of a bother, but the lying did make her feel a little uneasy some nights after seeing a client or a few instead of her friends. Sitting in bed she’d sneak a risky cigarette or two (New York was, unfortunately, a city of habit) and wonder if she’d ever be able to tell them.

The latest with her closest friends- Lindsay and Michael and Gavin was that she was still definitely just a secretary, but she also did a little online modelling on the side. Gavin had found a pop up ad (HOT GIRLS IN YOUR AREA) that had stolen a picture of her from of Ashley’s website. Hard to find much else to come up with when your friends ask why half-naked professional photos of you are all over the internet.

But still, she had brushed it off with some vague online modelling claims and none of them had asked her again. Ashley kept her photos as safe from illegal download as she could and got the ad deleted. Life went back to normal- or whatever her ‘normal’ had become.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Meg’s phone began to ring beside her on the bed, and groaning she switched off her TV ( _America’s Next Top Model_ was on. _So_ unfair.) and held the phone to her ear.

“This better be good Ash. My toenails aren’t even dry yet.”

“Thirty-four, executive, loaded, _handsome-_ ”

“Let me guess, married?” Meg rolled her eyes. “You know I don’t really like doing the married guys- their hands are always so… _sweaty._ ”

“Not married,” Meg could hear the scrolling and tapping of Ashley’s _Blackberry_ \- the ultimate businesswoman’s tool. “Asked for you by name, too.”

Meg groaned quietly at the thought. “Alright,” she rolled over in her bed, stretching the sleepiness out from her body. Sure, her original plan had been to stay in bed watching _ANTM_ re-runs until two AM with a bucket of Ben  & Jerry’s, but work called when work called. And rich executives like these were unmissable, because they were bound to pay well. “What do I need to know?”

“He didn’t give any specific requests, so stick to the basics. I think it’s his first time-”

“-What?” She sat up. “ _Ever?”_

“First time with an _agency_.” Meg could hear the eye roll over the phone, dripping from Ashley’s tone. “His name is Ryan Haywood- seemed a little nervous over the phone, but overall, nice guy. And just _guess_ where he works…”

“Where?” Meg stood from her bed and walked over to the giant mirror that took up most of the left wall in her bedroom. “And why do I need to know?”

“The universe works in mysterious ways.” Ashley hummed. “He works for AH, with Geoff.”

Meg tensed. “Did you call Geoff?” She asked. “You know… vet the guy?” if anyone would be willing to jump in and protect her from the weirdos, Geoff Ramsey would _always_ be the guy.

“Did I _call_ _Geoff_?” Ashley scoffed. “Client confidentially, Meg- we use it on a daily basis. I did a quick google search and he comes out clean. Nothing out of the ordinary, completely single if his Facebook page is anything to go by. Blue eyes to _die_ for.”

“Alright.” Meg stared at her reflection in the mirror, balancing the phone between her ear and shoulder to reach behind and tie her hair up. “I’m in. When and where?”

Ashley’s grin could almost be heard through the phone. “His place, ten thirty. I thought I’d give you an hour or two to get ready.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Becoming _Doll_ was a lengthy process.

It started with a steaming shower- never a bath. Baths are much too unsanitary to get you clean enough to see a client. A hot shower would do it- pounding pressure of the jets in her showerhead leaving no crevice untouched across her body. And showering before meeting a client meant cleaning _everything_ \- from shampooing her hair to scrubbing the soles of her feet.

With a client like _Ryan_ _Haywood_ \- some exec for a rich company like Geoff’s- Meg had some idea of what to expect. She blow-dried her hair, creamed every inch of her skin with something light and faintly scented (no chemicals- not after that one time she’d given a client an allergic reaction to fragranced moisturiser and he cried to Ashley thinking he had caught an STI.) before moving onto the more fine-touch elements of a transformation.

Because sure- she had soft skin and beautiful voluminous red curls and a pretty face and soft makeup and tight fitting clothes. But when you were an escort-  it was what was underneath all that that really counted. Being _Doll_ meant treating herself and treating herself meant exfoliation and face masks and expensive European fabrics and silks that wrapped around her body like a glove- specifically made and ordered to fit her exact measurements. She could guess what an easy guy like Ryan wanted- nothing complicated or over the top. Nothing rare or exciting or particularly _kinky_. She stood in front of her mirror to practice her best _vanilla_ smile in a pale blue bra-and-panty set made entirely of silk with white lace accents, tightly fitted and cut to make her body appear completely _perfect._ Easy men like Ryan loved this kind of piece- paired with thigh-high stockings and, about as risqué as it got, a stark white suspender belt. Underneath a black dress paired with heels and a coat, walking through New York and hailing a cab was the easiest thing in the world. Nobody knew, nobody saw- and those gifted few that may have noticed, simply looked back down at their feet and carried on walking.

Ryan’s building was as expected. A tall cold block of a home with gleaming windows and a straight-faced doorman. Blending in was what she was good at, so she breezed past him like she’d lived there her whole life. There was no concierge in the elevator (not that she hadn’t talked her way around her fair share of those) so Meg took herself straight up to the seventeenth floor, heels clacking against the hard floors of the hallway leading to apartment number fifty-six.

In her experience, the higher you had to go up a skyscraper, the richer your client was. Ryan was living two floors down from the penthouse, so she was feeling fairly confident in her expectations of an American Psycho wannabe to meet her on the other side of the door. They were all the same, mostly- sharp suit, fine wine and a cut-from-the-blade-of-God jawline. Men with these qualities always thought they were such a God-damn gift, that she took pleasure out of putting them in her place by showing them exactly what she could do. Some of them would consider themselves so irresistible, that the minute she was pulled into the apartment their unnaturally soft lips would be pressed all over her, rushing to get her undressed before she had a chance to text Ashley that she was okay and take her payment.

Safety was the main concern in her job. With every client, the moment they arrived at hers or she got to his, she’d take the money first, excuse herself to the bathroom and text Ashley to confirm that she was safe and the guy or girl wasn’t a threat of any kind. After that- anything went really. It didn’t matter so much what she was feeling like- the client’s enjoyment was the main focus. It’s what they were paying for, after all.

The doorbell echoed in her ears from the moment she rung it, and the first-time nerves that she felt for a few seconds every job she took, even six years on ran, through her with a shiver until the door was pulled open.

“Hi… uh- you must be _Dolly_. Please, come in.”

Meg didn’t even have the words to correct him. Ryan Haywood wasn’t _Christian_ _Bale_ , not by far. Sure, he wore a suit- but the jacket had been discarded, the shirt sleeves rolled up to reveal pale toned forearms and the top two buttons undone lazily. He wasn’t even wearing shoes, feet covered with plain black socks (and not the expensive kind that Geoff wore), and paired with his soft jawline and mussed brown hair the vibe Meg was receiving certainly wasn’t that of a stuck-up, big-time exec.

He looked nervous too, awkwardly handing over an envelope stuffed with cash that she didn’t hesitate to open and check. Ashley had been right- for what was a relatively basic package, he’d coughed up far more than necessary. Rich was guaranteed by the crispness of every surface of his city apartment, but in her experience, it was always the one percent-ers who wanted to be stingy in payment.

“Thanks.” She said, tucking the envelope away neatly in her purse. Ryan Haywood stared at her with wide bright blue eyes (Ashley was right- they _were_ to die for), and awkwardly tugged his hand through the light hair on top of his head. “Uh…” she glanced around the cool apartment again. “Would it be okay if I used your bathroom?”

“Bathroom? Yeah… uh- sure, right… right down the hall there. First door on the right- I mean, the left. It’s on the left.” He stammered, gesturing frantically in the direction of a lit stark white hallway. Meg nodded, but chose to say nothing. She shot him a small, hopefully reassuring smile before turning away, making sure she swayed her hips as she walked.

She set her purse down on the marble surface and fired off a quick text to Ashley.

 

_To: Ash_

_You were right- definitely his first time. Seems super nervous, but nice. Not a serial killer or anything. Paid well and in advance without being asked. Should be fine_ x

 

She waited a few minutes, fixing her hair and checking her makeup until Ashley’s ‘ _stay safe xx’_ made her phone vibrate. Then, she dug through her purse for a few condoms and unzipped the back of her dress, allowing it to fall from her shoulder and down her hips. She didn’t leave it to lay on the floor- (it was a fucking expensive dress)- she hung it neatly over the cold heater, and after carefully adjusting her twisted stockings and a final mirror check, she made her way back into the main room.

Ryan was sat on the couch stiffly, swirling a can of _Diet Coke_ around in his hands. He’d clearly heard the clacking of her heels, so didn’t bother looking around at first. “I’m sorry I don’t have much in the fridge- I don’t really drink, but if you want anything just let me know, and-”

“-Ryan.” She didn’t accept drinks from clients unless she really knew them- you could never be too careful and a bottle of water in your purse was always your best friend on a job. She didn’t need Ryan’s apologetic babble about drinks and snacks- they weren’t on a _date_ and he certainly hadn’t picked her up in a club. All Meg needed was to get the job done and head home- and for that all she needed from him was to turn around and drink her in before _begging_ for the chance to have her.

He turned around, but not quite as smoothly as she’d imagined. His eyes widened immediately, and he choked slightly, the nearly empty can tumbling from his fingers and hitting the floor. Neither of them gave it a second glance as the dark toxic liquid pooled on the wooden floor.

This was always Meg’s favourite part of a job. The _grand_ _reveal_ , the spectacle that she was, leading up to the main event. She loved the way the clients stared at her like she was the most gorgeous creature they’d ever seen. She loved the fact that she was the star of the show.

Before Ryan had the chance to fumble his words, she stalked over with a lazy smile and climbed onto his lap, heels kicked off her feet and hitting the floor with a thud. He sat back, almost instinctively away from her but she was slow with him- gently sliding her arms around his neck and arching her back so they could be pressed together.

“Tell me… Ryan,” she said quietly, one hand moving sliding down to his chest to get at the buttons that held his shirt closed whilst the other held condoms behind his neck tightly. “What exactly do you want tonight? Don’t be shy with the details.”

His cheeks heated up, red and hot enough that she could feel it with how close they were. Sensing that he was nervous, she didn’t push to get his clothes off, instead slipped her hand just into the open crook of his shirt and brushed her manicured fingers over the faint dusting of hair that laid there.

“I’ll do anything.” She continued in response to his silence, leaning forwards to brush her lips against his ear. “Anything you want.”

“I…uh-” he stuttered. “I don’t know.”

She stilled, and then, sat back. Usually, by now a client would be eating out of the palm of her hands. Most clients, particularly the nervous ones were so desperate to blow their load that they’d be anxiously muttering about how _sexy_ she was or how _perfect_ she felt and would be trying at least to feel her up a bit. Ryan was completely still, hands by the sides of his lap.

“Are you okay?” she asked. “Is it… you know- me?”

His blush only darkened. “No- God no, Dolly- you’re very beautiful. So, _so_ beautiful.” He then seemed confident enough to allow his eyes to explore her, gazing up and down her lithe body briefly. “I just… I’ve never done this kind of thing before. I’m not really… that kind of guy, I guess.”

“Oh.” She frowned. “I… This is a tricky one.”

He laughed, nervously. “Sorry.”

“No- it isn’t your fault, it’s fine.” She smiled. “Just… tell me what you like, and I’ll do it. I’m up for anything,” she pushed her hair back, away from her face. “Honestly. Try me.”

“Uh…” he paused, and slowly his hand crept up to rest just beside her thigh. She reached forwards to move it closer to her ass, and was pleased to find that his grip was strong and thankfully- not too clammy. Guys with sweaty hands were worst- especially when they wanted to stuff their grubby fingers in her mouth because they thought it was _hot_. “Kissing- that could be a start.” He mumbled. “Or- I mean… do you do that kind of thing?”

“Ryan.” She grinned. “This isn’t _Pretty Woman._ Real life comes with _loads_ more benefits.”

Meg leant forwards and thankfully, Ryan tilted his face up to meet hers. The kiss started off as a simple, soft slide of lips. Ryan didn’t kiss like the other city boys. Ryan kissed soft and gentle, and his lips were slightly chapped at the seam like they’d been bitten at anxiously rather than constantly smothered in balm. Ryan’s tongue didn’t probe the back of her throat until she had to lean away. She was the one, for once- who even took it that tiny tiptoe further and leant right into him, allowing for his hands to creep up her hips and settle on her back.

Most clients kissed quickly and sparsely, because most clients were more focused on getting her mouth elsewhere, but Ryan didn’t seem to show much interest in that side of the experience at all, more content simply dragging his lips across hers slowly and stroking the soft skin of her thighs and her waist. She reached down between them after a few minutes with intent to pop the button of his pants but he caught her hand before she could, and laced their fingers together sweetly.

Only then, did Meg realise that something was terribly, terrifyingly wrong. Ryan was holding her hand like she was his date to the prom and worse, she hadn’t even tried to stop him.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“It’s not too late you know.”

“I know.” He yawned. “But I like this. This is… nice.”

She’d managed to drag Ryan into the bedroom after a while but her underwear didn’t budge and they laid together above the sheets, Ryan cradling her in his arm and stroking across the small of her back with two fingers. They’d shared a few cigarettes and she’d attempted to initiate sex with him a few more times, but eventually she’d pretty much given up, given in and was laid against him.

They _talked_ , which was odd. Meg never talked with her clients- there wasn’t much more than awkward small talk before payment, a discussion of rules or boundaries or requests. The rest of her services didn’t need many words. Of course, there were her old few regulars who would ask about her day and her life and talk about theirs, but she never gave away more than she had to. Only one regular in her entire life had even learnt her real name.

And then there was Ryan. Ryan Haywood with his beautiful blue eyes and his big lonely apartment and his expensive silk bedsheets that didn’t even look slept in. Ryan Haywood who called her _Dolly_ so many times that she’d invented the new persona in her head already. _Dolly_ \- the girl who _cuddled_. There were always clients who wanted her to stay over, wanted to cuddle her tightly so she couldn’t run off- and sure, there were some who made it so she _really_ wanted to, but rules were rules and that kind of thing just didn’t happen unless Ashley approved it. Safety was her number one concern, and her number two was that she put in the convincing enough performance that earned her her reputation in the first place. Meg didn’t do the girlfriend experience like some of the other girls offered. Meg was more on the _dirty little secret_ side of the spectrum.

Maybe Ryan didn’t know her reputation, or maybe he didn’t understand exactly what it was he’d called up to order but after an hour and a half she knew that she had long overstepped the boundaries she herself had put in place the day she started field work. Real life didn’t cross into business- and it didn’t matter how lovely the client was- how fucking _nice_ and _soft_ that Ryan was- she couldn’t see him after he’d seen _her_ \- more than just Doll. He hadn’t even seen her without her underwear on, but it already felt like he’d seen far more than any other client ever had before.

“Honestly,” she held out the envelope towards him as she stood in his doorway. “I’ll refund you.”

“Dolly.” He smiled, and her butchered pseudonym sounded so genuinely affectionate on his tongue that her heart sped up a little. Ryan reached forwards, suddenly seeming much more confident and closed her hand around the envelope with his own. “Keep the money. You earned it.”

“But I didn’t _do_ anything.”

“You did _exactly_ what I wanted.” He said, and the sparkle in his eye was nothing more than genuine. “You were perfect.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

In the cab on the way home, her phone vibrated with another text.

_From: Ashley_

_Everything go okay? x_

Sighing, she texted back:

_To: Ashley_

_Just leaving now. No good for me- wants Meg. Not Doll._

 

* * *

 

 

 

When Ashley called her up the next morning asking to have a ‘ _meeting’_ with her over coffee, Meg thought for sure she was _fucked_ \- and not in the good way. Her night with Ryan had been plaguing her mind the whole night, and she had barely been able to close her eyes without seeing _him_ \- lips curled around the phrase _Dolly_ and soft hands stroking the sides of her waist.

She’d given him everything she swore she’d never do. She’d played the fucking _Girlfriend Experience_ game and he had won- because with the Girlfriend Experience, the client _always_ won. All the fun of a girlfriend, all the good parts without the heartache. She’d seen too many girls walk away from Ashley because of the Girlfriend Experience. She wasn’t about to become one of them.

“Look, I just want to start out by saying I fucked up.”

Ashley frowned around her cappuccino, as the waiter of the tiny coffee shop placed Meg’s drink in front of her, and a plate of miniature cookies.

“Fucked up?” Ashley’s brow furrowed. “How exactly did you fuck up?”

“Ryan,” Meg sighed, stirring her tea lazily. “I didn’t sleep with him.”

“ _You_ didn’t _sleep_ with him?” Ashley was clearly nothing short of flabbergasted, perfectly shaped eyebrows skyrocketing to her forehead. Even her precious _Blackberry_ was set aside on the table, buzzing with notifications that she didn’t even glance at. She took another sip of her coffee, swallowing loudly. “Are you sure?”

“What do you mean am I sure?” Meg snorted. “I didn’t sleep with him. It’s _embarrassing_.”

“Funny- because I checked the website this morning and he gave you a sparkling review.” Ashley leant forwards on her elbows with a steady gaze locked on Meg. “10/10, actually. And then I got this text message.” She reached for her Blackberry without looking away from Meg, who found suddenly it being her turn to look shocked. Eventually, Ashley relented from her piercing stare to scroll through her countless messages, giving Meg a chance to lean back in her chair and wonder what the _fuck_ was going through a certain AH Executive’s mind right about then.

“Here is it-” Ashley read aloud. “ _Hi Ashley, it’s Ryan. Just want to say again that I was very happy with Dolly’s service last night and if possible would like to see her again on a fairly regular basis if possible. I can email you my schedule to compare with hers tonight if that’s alright with you.”_ She scoffed, glancing briefly at Meg’s wide eyes. “Dolly?” she cooed. “You guys got nicknames for each other now? How romantic.”

“Shit.” Meg leant against the table with a pout. “Fuck my life.”

Ashley smirked. “Thought you didn’t do the ‘Girlfriend Experience’?”

“I don’t.” Meg glared. “And I’m not about to start. Tell him I can’t do regular- in fact, fucking tell him that I’m not seeing him again, period. I’m not what he wants, anyway.”

“Seems like he wants you.” Ashley scraped the foam in her cup with a tiny teaspoon. “Seems to me like he _really_ wants you.”

“That’s exactly the problem.” Meg sighed. “He wants _me_ \- not Doll.” 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Dumping” Ryan actually lifted a weight off of her narrow shoulders, and after coffee with Ashley was over Meg decided _fuck it_ and she needed to treat herself. She caught a cab down to the shadier side of the city and hit up a few of her favourite sex-shops for props and costumes and toys and lingerie. Meg knew what she was doing as her little shopping exploration got kinkier and kinkier. She was trying to tell herself- she wasn’t _The_ _Girlfriend_ , and she didn’t offer the Girlfriend _Experience_. She was _Doll-_ bad ass escort who barely gave a rat’s ass about her clients. She could pick up and drop customers like the toys she was shoving into her basket without blinking an eye. She had her line drawn deep in the sand between work and life and she was fucking sticking to it- despite her brief experience with a certain blue-eyed man.

Ryan was history, in her eyes. Ashley would give him another girl to fawn over, and maybe, a few months down the line she would leave the agency all together. The Girlfriend Experience: ending careers since 1982.

She couldn’t let that happen to herself, which is the main reason she absolutely could _not_ see Ryan again. If Meg loved _anything_ in the world dearly, it was her career. Giving it all up for the chance to be _cared about_ by some big-time executive with a fat wallet just wasn’t on her vision board.

In the past it had worked for some girls- heck, it had even worked for Ashley. She’d first met Burnie when he called on her, and now they were practically married. Burnie didn’t bat an eye at what Ashley had done for a living and how she currently made her money- and the two of them were stupidly in love with each other.

Meg wasn’t sure she could ever sit that still. Sticking with one person for the rest of your life? It had never been her style- she liked excitement and variation in her sex life way too much. Being an escort of her caliber meant she _could_ pick and choose to some extent. She could have her mixed bag of kinky clients and vanilla wannabees. Rich assholes that didn’t give a shit and pretty boy virgins who wanted to worship the ground she walked on. She even had a _foot guy_ who would be more than content after a quick blowjob to sit there and rub her feet for two hours. It was a far easier way to make four hundred dollars than a ‘real’ job.

So what did she care if Ryan wanted the real thing? She hardly had the time.

 

 


	2. BlawnDee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A week or so passed, and Meg had barely even spared a thought towards Ryan Haywood.

_ Part Two:  BlawnDee _

 

 

 

A week or so passed, and Meg had barely even spared a thought towards _Ryan Haywood._

 _Nope_ \- she hadn’t even tried to picture the way he softly stroked her thighs with the edge of his fingertips, let alone the way his lips were chapped when they pressed against hers, and especially not the way he held her tightly when they laid together. She hadn’t yet spared thought the gravelly tone of his voice after a cigarette or two despite the fact that she certainly hadn’t forgotten the way he smelt like burning wood and photocopier ink.

Alright- so maybe she had remembered his name once or twice.

Meg knew she was spending too much time dwelling on what she had only bothered referring to as _The Incident_ so with a sigh, she dragged her laptop onto her lap and logged into her administrative account on _The Know._ It’d been a while since she’d cleaned up her profile, after all. The photos were dated but still effective so she skipped over them briefly, only editing a few of the captions to make them sound a little less sleazy and a little more… _professional_. She wasn’t really a twenty-five year old make-believe bunny boiler anymore. The image alone could only work for so long.

After that, Meg took a browse through her inbox. She didn’t do it often, as usually it was full of sleazy messages and unsolicited naked photos sent from anonymous users and clingy clients. It took too long to trail through every message and block people so she rarely bothered- but the alternative was to lay in bed and think about _Ryan_ until she fell asleep so _maybe_ , it wasn’t that trifling after all.

Most of the messages were more of the same, and she could only giggle at _u r so sexy baby doll Xxx_ so many times so she scrolled through them quickly, until one message in particular caught her eye.

* * *

 

 

_From: BlawnDee_

_Hi Doll! My name is Barbara. I’ve been logging onto your page and getting to scared to message you for the past three months, but I forced myself to send this one. Basically- I think you’re beautiful, and I’ve been looking for a way to get into calling. I was wondering if you could help me out!_

_Please, write me back? Even if it’s a no._

_Barbara Dunkelman xxx_

 

* * *

 

 

At first, she wanted to ignore the message. She wasn’t a pimp, and whilst she had no qualms about sex work, she understood that it wasn’t everyone’s most desired career path. And what did she really know about this Barbara chick anyway? She could be a fucking _stalker_ , a mass murderer or just a kid looking to rebel against her parents for a few hundred bucks.

But then, on the flipside, Meg was really _bored_ of laying at home and daydreaming about Ryan. She had her other friends, which she greatly appreciated- but it was impossible to find someone who wasn’t as constantly busy as Ashley to talk about _work_ with. Escort friends were the _best kind_ \- and her last escort best friend had packed up her shit and moved to LA without so much as a text only a few months ago.

Throwing herself into Project: _Barbara Dunkelman_ was easy enough. Barbara was certainly not a serial killer or stalker. She was nice! and Meg had to give it to her- the girl’d done her research for _sure_. She’d showed up to their coffee date with a binder full of paperwork and all the research on the job she could gather. At least seventy percent of her information was correct- which was _way_ above average for the typical new girl.

“Rule one- create an alias.” Meg told her. It was almost humorous, the way she was slouched back against the soft booth with her tea in her hand, sipping from it with a curious stare on the young girl aimed on the young girl in front of her. Was this what Ashley had felt like, all those years ago when it was Meg sitting on the other side of normalcy?

“I was thinking of BlawnDee.” Barbara nibbled on a cookie. “It’s worked for me through life so far.”

“Okay- as long as you don’t have it on anything too personal.” Meg nodded, “You wouldn’t want some weirdo tracking you down on Facebook or Instagram.” She flicked through the makeshift portfolio Barbara had drawn up by herself. It looked more like a mood-board than anything, a patchwork of random selfies of Barbara in her underwear and swimsuits practically ripped straight from the pages of a teenage boy’s cell-phone. “However, you’ve already made a mistake.”

Barbara’s doe-eyes went wide.

“Don’t look so startled!” Meg laughed. “It’s not a big deal. Just… when you messaged me on the website, you gave me your real name.” she sipped from her tea again. “Never give out your real name- and especially not to the clients. Like I said- unless you really trust them…the last thing you need is them tracking you down.”

“Oh! You’re _so_ right!” Barbara nodded, leafing through her binder and scribbling out lines with a pen. “Gosh, Meg- you’re so fucking _good_ at this.”

Meg couldn’t help but smile at that. “Thanks.” She shrugged. “I’ve been in the business a long time. I guess with age comes wisdom, you know- all that bullshit.” She waved a hand dismissively, but out of the side of her eye she was watching and anticipating Barbara’s reaction. It was like having a little sister that admired her and hung onto her every word.

“What’s it like?” Barbara asked dreamily, leaning forwards on her elbows. “Is it like Pretty-”

“No, it’s not like Pretty Woman.” Meg rolled her eyes. “Always kiss on the mouth. It’d be rude not to- and never _ask_ for things, only offer or accept. That’s escort 101 right there.”

“Cool.” Barbara reached forwards for another cookie, but Meg slapped her hand away quickly.

“One more cookie and you could go from a five star to a four star.” She warned. “Try and keep healthy. Junk food binges once a week usually cut it- try and join a gym though. And you need to start shopping downtown in the sex shops- you’re a pretty girl, but you’re not escort pretty. I can give you some of the stuff that doesn’t fit my image anymore but you’re gonna want to figure yourself out, for sure.” She rattled off like a list, stirring her tea absentmindedly as Barbara scribbled down her notes.

“I’ll give your details and your photos over to Ashely- she’ll take you on.” Meg pulled her phone from her pocket and filled in Barbara’s details. “But you’re definitely going to need a new spread for the website. My photographer is called Jon- he’ll get some good shots for you, I can text you his number.”

She looked up from the phone screen just in time to see Barbara watching her, a wide smile spreading across her lips. “Seriously Meg- thank you so much.” She sighed. “This is something I’ve been thinking about for so long- and meeting you today, it’s made me know it’s the right decision.”

“This job…” Meg smiled back. “It can be the best damn job in the world, and the worst. Whether it works out this time around is entirely down to you, Barb. Or, sorry-” she corrected herself. “ _BlawnDee.”_

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“She’s a nice girl.” Ashley approved over the phone. “Tall, pretty, big eyes, blonde hair. The guys will love her- not sure about girls but, whatever. Get Jon to send me her photos as soon as possible and I’ll get her matched.”

“Hey, Ash,” Meg bit her lip nervously. Since the moment Barbara has walked out of that coffee shop with her binder and her wild ideas about a glamourous life, something had been scratching at her brain. It was an idea, an excellent one really. It all depended on whether or not she was brave enough to go through with it.

“Meg?”

 _Fuck it_ , she thought. _This’ll be good for me. I mean- for Barb._

“Is Ryan still in the system?”

“Yep.” Ashley replied. “Tried to book you the other day actually, I told him you were fully booked out for the month- you’re _welcome_ by the way. Sucks to turn a nice guy with a fat wallet like Ryan’s away.”

“Give him to Barb.” Meg said. Ashley was quiet, for a few seconds.

“To Barb?”

“Yeah!” Meg exclaimed. “Think about it Ash- Ryan is perfect for a first client. He’s not a creep, he’s clean, he’s not into anything crazy. He’d be perfect for Barbara- he could even be her first regular. That’s _so_ important for her.”

“You sure you don’t want to take him?” Ashley asked. “Last chance?”

Meg swallowed thickly.

“I…” she hesitated- she _never_ hesitated. Ryan wasn’t worth hesitating for- she barely knew the guy after all. She didn’t care about him. He was just another client- and she wasn’t looking for a regular. Barbara needed Meg to look out for her. Barbara needed a client like Ryan.

“Meg?”

“I’m sure.” Meg sighed. “She needs this. A nice guy like Ryan- it’s the _perfect_ first job.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“A regular?” Barbara asked. They were in the fitting room of an expensive lingerie store in the centre of the city, Barbara dressed in white silk and lace in front of the mirror and Meg behind her, in her torn jeans and jersey shirt. She watched quietly as Barbara twisted and turned in front of the mirror with a series of pouts and poses. Like a routine, she would be out for a few minutes to admire herself, and then disappear back into the cubicle to switch into something else. So far, her favourites had been everything Meg imagined they would be- lacy and pretty and _innocent,_ just like all the frills Meg had stuffed into the back of her closet from when she started out.

“A regular.” She confirmed. “Regulars are great- and Ryan is a super nice guy. He’s rich, so you could score big time by securing him and as yours.”

“He’s really nice?” Barbara asked, tilting her head and smiling into the mirror.

“He is.” Meg sighed. “He would treat you… _so_ well- he would lavish you with expensive gifts and trips abroad… I used to have a regular like him, right around the time I was starting out.”

“What was he like?”

Meg smiled, leaning back into the soft chaise lounge. It’d been a long time since she thought about _him_ \- her first regular. Her favourite client from her whole career. Geoff Ramsey had been the sole client who Meg stopped looking at as such. When Meg looked at Geoff- she saw him as a _person_.

“He was amazing.” She answered truthfully. “I was young, like you- and scared, probably like you are. Geoff put me at ease and made sure I was always taken care of. I loved him- about as much as you can love a client, I guess.”

Barbara was facing the mirror, but her eyes drifted to watch Meg with a dreamy gaze. It was the same look Meg had pulled herself before, gazing into lingerie magazines when she was a kid and wondering how on _earth_ those women could’ve ever become so beautiful.

“Why’d you stop seeing him?” Barbara asked.

“He got married.” Meg pouted, but the smile on her face was impossible to hide. “I understood. His wife is amazing. I still get texts sometimes. He’s my friends boss, which is kind of weird but- they don’t know what I do. He’s happy with his new wife. Got a kid now and everything.”

“Sounds like a fairy-tale.” Barbara smirked. She stopped watching Meg then, and disappeared back into the cubicle to change. She was still talking, rambling about the life and the job and how _excited_ she felt, but Meg had stopped listening. The smile had dropped from her face, replaced by a pensive stare at herself in the mirror.

“It was.” She said quietly- too quiet for Barbara to catch. “For him.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Meg's phone buzzed later that night.

-

_From: Ashley_

_Ryan’s booked for tonight with a certain blonde newbie. I’ll keep you in the know x_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Liked it? Please leave kudos!
> 
> Really liked it? Didn't? Questions? Leave a comment!! Please!!
> 
> Or, for more turnwood, raywood, mavin and others check out the rest of my AO3. General RTAH stuff (shippy and non-shippy), check out my tumblr - PAPERSK1N.tumblr.com
> 
> Question: What do you think will happen with Barbara and Ryan? Do you think how Meg feels about Geoff is fair? Answer in the comments!


	3. Temptations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meg is tempted.

_ Part Three: Temptations _

 

 

 

 

“Meg.” Ashley answered the phone sounding cheerful, yet tired. But then, Meg couldn’t blame her. It’d been a long weekend with Valentine’s Day on the Sunday- experimental couples gifting themselves a third on a one-night-only basis and lonely single men dialling Ashley’s Blackberry in search of the _Ultimate Girlfriend Experience._

Meg was good enough not to have to work Valentine’s day, but back when she was starting out like Barb, it had been her second most lucrative time of the year (oddly enough, after Christmas). Still she’d seen a guy on the Saturday that had left her with fingertip shaped bruises up her hips and one hickey on her neck, even though she’d made it clear to avoid leaving marks where he could. Her hips she could look over, sometimes, in the heat of the moment- things could happen. But the dark spot on her neck? That had been deliberate.

“How was he then?”

“Not good.” Meg huffed. “Super grabby,” she tilted her head in the mirror, applying make-up to the hickey. “I asked you not to set me up with anymore rough guys and this time I mean it, Ash.” She sighed.

“I thought you _liked_ the rough guys?”

Meg bit the inside of her cheek, looking away from her reflection and down to the floor subconsciously. “Not anymore I guess.” she shrugged.

“Fine,” Ashley said. “No more rough guys. Is that all you were calling for?” she teased. Meg glared, more at her own reflection than Ashely, over the phone. Her boss knew exactly what the main reason was she’d called, but she’d never let her get it without asking.

What a stone cold bitch she was. Meg loved it.

“How was she?” Yeah, covering it up by pretending she was only concerned for Barbara would _totally_ work. And Ashley was absolutely born yesterday. “She still with us?”

“She’s still with us.” Ashley said, but the end of her sentence didn’t sound final. She trailed off slowly, like she was carefully thinking over her next few words. The silence stretched over the phone for a second too long, and Meg huffed impatiently.

“Well?”

“Sorry.” Ashley sighed. “Barb did fine- she was more than happy with the Valentine’s work she got but… Ryan was _not_ happy with _BlawnDee_ at his door when he specifically had been requesting _Doll_. So now I’ve matched Barbara with someone else.” Over Ashley’s voice, Meg heard a few click of the keyboard in her home-office. “Still, he left her a good review on the website. Barbara seemed happy with the experience so I don’t think he said anything to her.”

 _Did he have sex with her?_ Lingered on Meg’s tongue, but she bit it back before her mouth ran ahead of her brain. Sure, Ashley may have been her friend to some extent- but the woman was _all_ business and professionalism. To ask something so trivial and petty would not only be seen as childish- it would be worse.

It would be _unprofessional_.

“He’s really not happy?” Meg asked with a sigh. She heard Ashley exhale slowly.

“Nope.” She said. “Ryan’s a nice guy but… I can only tell him you’re busy so many times, Meg. He really wants to see you again- he’s completely _enchanted_ by you. Are you sure you can’t see him again?” she asked. Then after a long pause on Meg’s end, and added: “For me?”

“No!” Meg whined. “I can’t do it Ash. I just can’t.”

“Meg.” Ashley chided, her voice taking on it’s more serious tone that she saved for particularly special occasions and (probably) kinky dominatrix roleplay with Burnie. “Fine, cut the bullshit. Don’t do it for me- do it for _you_. Your rep- I won’t lie to you and pretend it isn’t starting to slip. A client like Ryan- who leaves sparkling reviews of the girls he _doesn’t_ want good really boost your rating back up on the website.”

Meg bit her lip as Ashley spoke, and looked back at her reflection. _Had_ she been slipping in her service? If there was anything Meg prided herself on, it was her commitment to her job. She was the best _The Know_ had to offer- or at least, she _had_ been, once upon a time.

Maybe avoiding Ryan hadn’t been helping her stay career focused. Maybe, it had only made it worse.

“Is the pensive silence a possible yes?” Ashley teased. Meg smiled, hearing the familiar smirk in her friend’s voice.

“Alright.” She relented. “I’ll see him again. Not for you- for my _business_.”

“Sure babe.” Ashley scoffed. “I’ll talk to you later.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

This time, Ryan didn’t _want_ her to come over to his apartment. Ashley had briefly explained that he was staying in a hotel downtown for _business reasons_ , but Meg hardly cared for the semantics. If anything, she was _happier_ that they were meeting in a hotel rather than at his place. Hotels meant anonymity- and being in hotel suite with Ryan lacked that personal touch that she craved from him.

Ryan was like smoking a cigarette- the same bad, disgusting filthy habit that she herself couldn’t break. Ryan kissed her sweetly on the cheek when she arrived outside his hotel room, and the warmth spread through her just like smoke.

“You look very beautiful.” He nodded as she made her way into the giant suite, white heels clacking on the floor. She’d gone for _pretty_ rather than _sexy_ this time around, a white flowing number with crisp white and pink lace underwear hidden underneath. It was a new set, one she didn’t yet want to admit to herself she’d bought with him in mind.

“Drink?”

“Sure.”

She was clearly dead set on breaking all her personal rules tonight- but Ryan seemed like a nice guy who probably wasn’t set on drugging and having his way with her, so he called room service and ordered champagne and marshmallows and strawberries with chocolate when he saw Meg’s eyes lingering on them as she glanced over the menu.

“Ryan.” She bit into the strawberry gently, wary of juice running down her chin and staining her dress. “You didn’t have to go to all this trouble.”

His hand rested on her hip. She’d already made her customary bathroom safety check, but had chosen to keep the dress on this time. The last thing she needed was a stuttering and flustered Ryan to take over this new, more relaxed version of himself before they had the chance to even kiss.

“You’re worth it.” He said. “And I promise I won’t bore you to death this time.”

She laughed and rested her head briefly against his shoulder. “You didn’t bore me- you were nervous. It was cute.”

“It was _not_ cute.” He protested, letting go of her and leaning backwards on the garish bed, cramming a few fluffy white marshmallows in his mouth as Meg sipped at the last of her expensive champagne and crawled up the bed to lie beside him. Ryan watched her silently but thankfully didn’t look nervous at all as she reached out for his hand, lacing their fingers together loosely. She wasn’t pushing him- not tonight. Whatever happened- with Ryan at least she could guarantee that it would be a nice evening. Sex or no sex- for once, it wasn’t a requirement. And for once- she didn’t care. She didn’t need the sex to like Ryan, his company was more than enough.

“It was embarrassing.” He continued with a soft laugh. “And then, when you didn’t show up last time and the agency sent me _BlawnDee_ I thought you hated me.”

Meg bit her lip awkwardly. Barbara’s ‘name’ had sent a sting through her spine, and certainly not for the first time, she found herself wondering if Ryan had slept with her. Still, she swallowed the jealousy and didn’t dare ask. This was a job- and the more she reminded herself of that fact… the better.

A few strawberries down the line, and Ryan was seeming a whole lot more relaxed then he had the last time they’d seen each other. She’d crawled her way into his lap, straddling his hips as his hands stroked across the soft material of her dress. It all felt familiar, yet strange- not to be on his couch, not for him to be stiff and unresponsive below her. It was nice, to see him so comfortable around her.

“Big expensive hotel room.” She commented, glancing around briefly. “Pity to put it to waste.”

Thankfully, he smiled right back at her.

“I couldn’t agree more.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

At the start, it was much of the same. Except, this time Ryan pulled her dress over her head and didn’t tense when she unbuttoned his shirt, allowing it to slip from his arms as she pressed her body against his. And he pressed back with just as much heat, hands roaming up her thighs and across the curve of her ass to her wait and down again as they kissed. Meg was already starting to feel wet- because _kissing_ Ryan was that good. Usually with her other clients, she’d sneak some lube down there in the bathroom before she took her pants off. Clients liked it better when they already thought you were _dripping_ for them- most of them needed the ego boost.

But not Ryan. She could feel him getting hard beneath her own crotch and for once- she was the one feeling the emotional high from it. _He likes me_ she kept repeating in her head. _He really really likes me_. Her other clients _liked_ her- sure- but they liked her a lot better with their privates in her mouth. Ryan liked her like _this_ , sat on his lap with her underwear still on, content to kiss and tease her with his lips alone. His mouth roamed across her face and down her neck- and Meg didn’t even have the energy to remind him of their strict _no marks_ policy. Thankfully, Ryan didn’t get particularly bitey- just travelled with his lips down to her shoulder until the strap of her bra slipped down her arm as it brushed his face.

“You okay?” he asked her quietly, nosing up at her throat again. Meg nodded.

“Yeah.” She breathed, rocking her hips into his slightly. “I’d like to be even better though- if you get what I mean.”

Ryan looked up at her, and the smile on his face lit her heart on fire. It was a mixture of smugness and adoration, and after one final kiss on her lips, he reached to her back and unclasped her bra. Meg leant back to let it fall from her chest and tossed it aside, just before Ryan grabbed her by hips and rolled her over so she was laid out on her back, hair fanned out on the white pillow below her. Only then did he turn his attention to her chest, marvelling at it for a few hot seconds before bowing his head to kiss at her left nipple gently.

“You’re so beautiful.” He looked up at her. “You’re amazing.”

Meg couldn’t help herself. The blush spread from her cheeks down to her chest as Ryan gave the same treatment to the adjacent nipple before kissing a line down her navel until he reached her panty line. She moved before he did, wriggling to pull them off but he swatted her hands away to remove them himself, Meg lifting her butt so they could slip from her thighs. Ryan didn’t throw them to the floor in haste, not like other clients would’ve. Clearly he was a man who knew his fabrics- pure silk didn’t deserve to be crumpled on the floor. He stroked the material between his thumb and forefinger gently before laying the panties out on the side of the bed. Then, he turned his attention back to Meg- laid completely naked in front of him.

“You’re a little behind.” She said, nodding at his trousers, which were still buttoned tightly. Still, she could see the bulge of his cock, straining against the expensive material. “I feel like I’m not the only one who should be naked.” She teased,

“I can wait.” He smirked, laying on his front to rest between Meg’s legs. _Oh_. She thought _This is how it’s going to go_.

It’s been a long time since a client, male _or_ female had gone down on her. The men never usually bothered to ask- as for some reason it was seen as a trivial task reserved for ‘trapped’ husbands and desperate boyfriends. The women were far too focused on being on the receiving end of the exchange- and Meg had some pretty solid tongue action anyway. Most of the female clients she had couldn’t keep their legs from shaking long enough to return the favour.

Outside of work she didn’t look around much for people to sleep with- boyfriends weren’t really in the question because they never liked what she did and one night stands were pointless when she had a contact list of handsome and wealthy men begging to have her over for the night anyway. At least they paid for the disappointing sex.

But Ryan… Ryan wasn’t like the other clients, apparently.

He seemed fairly content nestled between her legs, long licks up and down her folds and in small circles around her clit until her back arched and she grabbed onto his hair tightly. He added a finger or two on occasion but his main focus was the exterior- something Meg was certainly not complaining about.

It was an embarrassingly short amount of time before he had coaxed an orgasm out of her, head hitting the memory foam pillows with a cushioned _thud_ and a _seriously_ loud cry of his name. Meg remembered the days when she was so busy she couldn’t remember her client’s names.

Ryan had his magical tongue were well on their way to making sure she would never forget his.

“Fucking _hell_.” She panted, as he rested over her again and kissed around her soft breasts and collarbone as she writhed underneath him, legs still shaking. “Shit- Ryan… you gotta teach me that thing with the- and the…” words failed her as she pushed her head back again when Ryan’s kisses didn’t stop, helping her catch her breath back. “You’re amazing.” She reached for his hair, pulling his head up gently so he could kiss her on the lips. “You’re _so_ amazing.”

“You flatter me.”

“Take your pants off!”

Ryan smirked. “What?” he teased. “Is that an order?”

Meg wheezed a tired laugh. “I’m seriously. I’m gonna give you the best god-damn blowjob of your entire life. Seriously- you deserve it.” She rolled onto her front as Ryan laid back beside her, fumbling with the button of his slacks until he got it, tugging them and his boxers down. Meg couldn’t resist a lingering look at his cock- the perfect size ( _because what about Ryan wasn’t perfect? It was unfair_.) before reaching over and taking it in her hand.

“Imagine the best blowjob you’ve ever had.” She instructed, letting go briefly to crawl over and settle between his legs so his standing cock was at level with her face. “Seriously.” She poked his thigh, as he smirked down at her. “Imagine.”

“Fine.” Ryan sighed, eyes falling shut. Meg stifled a laugh as his cock twitched, ever so slightly. “I got it.”

“Boy or girl?”

Ryan blushed. “Boy.” He admitted. “College.”

“Experimental years?” Meg arched a brow. Ryan opened one eye to playfully glare at her.

“What’s the point of this exercise again?” he asked. Meg smirked.

“So that college kid- best blowjob of your life?” she reached backwards to brush her hair out of her face and secure it with the hair tie she kept around her wrist. “Savour it whilst you can. After this- you’ll be lucky if you can even remember his name.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The amount of cum Meg had coaxed onto her face in her life was admittedly, a lot. Men- for some reason got off on it, splattering her made-up face with their own bodily fluids. For her, it was impractical at best, uncomfortable at worst. Still- it was worth a few hundred dollars an hour.

The point was, Meg had given many blowjobs in her life. However, the amount of times she had actually swallowed semen directly from a client… she could probably count those on one hand. If it was on her face, it could be wiped away. In her mouth… well- there wasn’t much she could do about that. She’d have to swallow- spitting was way too graphic and a total mood killer.

It wasn’t that she _hated_ swallowing- it just felt oddly too personal, ingesting the bodily fluid of a random man she hardly knew. No- swallowing was reserved for the special clients. The _best_ regulars.

And now, Ryan.

She even let him grab her hair tightly as his hips bucked up involuntarily and he spurted in her mouth without warning. She wasn’t even annoyed that he hadn’t warned her- he’d been a little too busy moaning nonsensical words of praise into the empty hotel suite- so she couldn’t really complain. And she had the _Hookers Instincts_ as Ashley often crudely put it. The tensing of the thighs, tightness of the grip on her head. Heavy breaths, narrowed eyes. Meg just brushed a soft knuckle across the underside of his balls a few times and he was putty in her hands- or, more appropriately, in her mouth.

“What did I tell you?” she asked, sitting up between his thighs afterwards as it was his turn to catch his breath back, one hand collapsed over his chest and the other fisted into the pillow beside him.

“I think I’m having a heart attack. You literally sucked me to death.” He groaned. Meg laughed.

“I told you I’m good.” She smirked, shifting to mount him and straddle his lap. Unsurprisingly, hearing Ryan moan for her whilst fisting his hands in her hair had gotten her going again easily, and she was starting to feel wet as she settled in his lap. Ryan’s face screwed up the moment she pressed against him.

“Oh god.” He reached forwards weakly to touch her hip, “Give me ten minutes at least! You’ll end up killing me.”

“Ten minutes.” Meg laughed, rocking her hips back only slightly so the cleft of her ass knocked against his over-sensitive cock. “Then- you’re fucking me for real. Deal?”

Ryan moved his hand from her hip, and stretched it between them in a handshake, which Meg happily accepted.

“Deal.” He nodded.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Hey Ryan?”

“Yeah?” he yawned. That was both a good and a bad sign. On one hand, she’d tired him out. That was another nice little ego boost- but then, who wouldn’t be tired after the session _they’d_ just had. It was up there- top three of her list of client experiences, right behind Geoff in the shower and the guy that taught her how being choked could be a good thing. _Those_ bruises had been hard to explain to Ashley when she pulled out her bedazzled riding crop and threatened to march around and _‘teach the guy a lesson_ ’.

But on the other hand- she had tired him out. Ryan was falling asleep, with a naked Meg wrapped in his arms and a movie playing quietly on the television, half eaten strawberries and chocolates rested at the end of the bed.

Suddenly, it was all feeling a little too _couple-y_ for her.

“Sorry.” Meg pulled herself physically out of his embrace, and sat on the edge of the bed with her back to him. It almost hurt physically, having to force herself to leave him. A big part of her wanted nothing more than to crawl right back into that bed and lay with him for the rest of her life- especially when she heard him turn to face her naked back and call, “Hey? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” She sighed, turning back to reach across the bed and grab her panties. “I have to go.”

“Stay.” He reached out, grabbing her wrist gently with his warm hand. Meg snatched it back and shook her head gently. Without waiting for an explanation, Ryan dropped his hand back to the bed immediately, and Meg backed away to gather up her clothes.

“You know I can’t.” she said quietly as she clipped her bra behind her back. “Ryan… you’re my client, okay? This is my job- it’s work. I can’t stay. I’m sorry.”

Ryan didn’t force her to reply. He didn’t ask questions. Instead, he leant over to the beside table and pulled out a white envelope. It had her name _Dolly_ scribbled across in red ink. _Fuck-_ how had she forgotten that? The cash- the main purpose of the whole evening. Even her pseudonym pained her to look at, and she suddenly remembered that through the whole affair, he hadn’t even said her name once. Not her real name.

Meg pulled her dress over her head and took the money from Ryan. She didn’t bother counting it- there would be the full amount plus tip. That, she didn’t have to question.

“Thank you.” She nodded in the doorway. “For a wonderful night, Ryan.”

“Thank you, Dolly.” He smiled from the bed. “Have a good night.”

Once the door to the bedroom was closed behind her, Meg let her face crumple. She wouldn’t cry- no that really would be pathetic. She just hoped silently as she slipped her heels on that Ryan wouldn’t hate her completely for being so blunt. It was a shame- but she had set herself rules along with Ashley’s for a reason. She was a prostitute- not a girlfriend. She was a fantasy, a dream. She didn’t stay the night- she never stayed the night.

As she walked from the hotel to the best spot to hail a cab, Meg thought back to the only client she had ever shared a bed with. Geoff was different though- she saw him twice, sometimes three times a week. Geoff took her on expensive vacations and out dancing and to exclusive parties. And even after all that, it took her a long time to feel comfortable actually _sleeping_ in the same bed as him. Lying there she could do- just until he fell asleep and she got bored of tracing his tattoos with her fingers. Then, she would slip out, freshen up and maybe hit the bar of whatever luxury hotel they were at at. Pick up a night job or two on the fly, if she could wing it.

Ryan’s bed was really tempting, though.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Liked it? Loved it even? Leave kudos and a comment! They really make my day.
> 
> Also, if you want more turnwood or other RTAHetc ships, check out the rest of my AO3! Or, for general RTAHetc stuff (shippy and non-shippy), check out my tumblr - PAPERSK1N.tumblr.com
> 
> Question: Do you think Meg is in the wrong or the right for obsessing over Ryan and Barbara? Should she have asked Ashley like she wanted to? Is Ryan really as perfect as he seems? Should Meg have stayed in his bed?


	4. The Big Moments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The hours of her made-up job didn't always correlate with Michael, Gavin and Lindsay's plans, but- a long time ago Meg had promised both them and herself that she would always be there for the big moments.
> 
> Gavin getting promoted to Creative Director was certainly a big moment.

_ Part Four: The Big Moments _

 

 

 

“Meg Turney!” Ashley exclaimed over the phone. Meg couldn’t help but smile tiredly. Sure, her limbs ached from the night before- but she had trash TV and Ben & Jerry’s ice cream and the whole day and night off to recover. Plus, Ashley was happy- which was always a bonus.

“I knew you could do it!”

“I did it.” Meg smiled. “It was really nice.”

“According to the website it was more than _really nice_.” Ashley teased. “I won’t bore you with the semantics, but let’s just say that a one Mr Haywood left an amazing review on the website that’ll really draw you in some primes clients again.”

“I want the soft guys now.” Meg licked at her spoon. “Soft gentle guys. No more rough guys.”

“No more getting choked?”

Meg spluttered. “Ashley!” she scoffed. “That was… like three times.” she took a contemplative pause. “Alright,” she added. “four or five or- whatever. It isn’t important. I’m changing my target audience.”

“Interesting.” She could practically see Ashley over the phone. Meg knew what she’d be doing- leaning forwards on her elbows over her shiny white desk with the most devious and attractive smile on her pretty little face. “One ride with Ryan Haywood and the leopard is changing her spots... what gives?”

“I’m growing up,” Meg mumbled through a mouthful of ice cream. “I can’t do the young girls work anymore. I need to be more… sophisticated.” She paused _Toddlers in Tiaras_. “I’ll leave the cutesy shit to them.”

“Barbara’s getting on really well, by the way.” Ashley said, tap-tap-tapping at her keyboard loudly. “Good pick with that one.”

Meg smiled. “I knew she had potential. Any regulars yet?”

“One.” Ashley nodded. “Aaron Marquis. Eccentric businessman and writer. Hopefully she won’t fall in love with him.”

“Every rom-com’s dream.” Meg rolled her eyes. “If only real life was so easy.”

“She’s also brought in a little partner in crime-. Her names Arryn, but on the website she’s got this sexy name- _Blake Belladonna_. Came up with it herself.”

“I love it!” Meg raised an eyebrow, pulling her laptop aside to load up _TheKnow.com_ and scan the new profiles for the girls. “Dark haired chick? Pale?”

“That’s her.” Ashley confirmed. “Total opposite of Barb. Little quiet, brooding. Mostly female clients. But then- her and Barb have a whole bumblebee thing going on that the male clients _love_. You wouldn’t want to know.”

“God.” Meg laughed, pointer lingering over the section of her reviews. She never read them usually- critics only made her upset and lengthy descriptions of her evenings made her feel queasy. She considered it for a second- for _Ryan_ , but quickly decided that she was doing that thing where she made exceptions to her rules for Ryan, and snapped the laptop shut.

“Seriously Meg, you taught Barb and now, Arryn everything they know. So- I wanted to wait until we met for coffee to do you books, but I may as well tell you know.”

Meg sat up in her bed, frowning. “What?” she asked.

“You’ll be getting commission- ten percent for now on both the girls. You brought them into the business, so-”

“-Ash!” Meg interrupted. “I… I can’t accept that. I’m not a _Madame_ or… an evil pimp who scoops girls up off the street and gives them a forty-sixty rate. I can’t!

“Meg.” Ashley mimicked. “Relax. I’ve already spoke to the girls. They’re really on board- actually, it was Barbara’s idea. Accept the gift!” she laughed. “You deserve it.”

“Ash.” Meg sighed. “Thank you- so much. I don’t know where I’d be without you.”

“ _Please_.” Ashley scoffed. “I don’t know where _I_ would be without you.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Having Ryan as a customer was excellent. He wasn’t quite at regular status yet- she was far too busy and anxious that he was way too perfect for that. But it was nice because she saw him every now and then, he would surprise her with champagne or chocolate or Chicago deep dish pizza (she mentioned it was her favourite _once_ and clearly he never forgot it. Considerate asshole) and then they would have amazing sex and she’d come out of it with a hefty tip and real good memories for nights in her apartment when she was feeling lonely.

But then, on the first Saturday night she hadn’t worked in four consecutive weeks, life threw her the most inconsiderate curveball. Michael had been hounding her to keep the date free as Gavin had gotten some big promotion that they were teasing him about endearingly, and he wanted to host a surprise gathering in their favourite bar with all of his friends and colleagues to congratulate him.

So she went. For once, on a Saturday night she wasn’t smoothing her dress to cover lacy lingerie. She had the plainest and comfiest cotton panties on under a killer short black dress with bright Red heels and a bag to match. It was ten o’clock- early for her- when she tottered into the bar, fashionably late for the big surprise. Meg hated surprises and loud cheering in public places so she was more than happy to make an entrance half an hour after the starting time when everyone was already tipsy and happy and serene.

“Meg!”

Gavin spun around when he noticed her at the bar and beamed. He made his way over to hug her tightly, followed by Michael who flagged down the bartender to get her a drink.

“Glad you could make it.” Michael said into her ear as he approached her with a hug. Meg smiled widely, hoping the guilt didn’t show on her face. If she hadn’t shown, it wouldn’t’ve been the first time. She worked hours that didn’t always make sense even for a ‘night-time secretary’ so sometimes, she did miss the hang-outs and the bar crawls and the celebrations. But, she had made a promise to herself one year into working that she would _always_ make it for the big moments.

Gavin becoming Creative Director of the company he’d worked his ass off at for the last four years was a big moment.

“Geoff’s here.” Gavin nodded over to the other end of the bar, where Geoff was stood next to Griffon and a few guys in suits. She watched him for a few seconds, but he didn’t look up, so Meg let her eyes stray and wander around the room. She skimmed the faces and recognised a few from previous parties and celebrations. She even spotted Burnie, making his way through the crowd with Ashley right beside him- a big fat ring on her finger.

Maybe some girls could play the girlfriend experience and still make it out a winner.

“Oh, and then Michael bought me this flipping mug!” Gavin caught her attention again, slurring slightly as he waved a white mug around. “ _World_ _Greatest_ _Boss_!” he read. “What an _ass_!”

“Come on Gav- please- don’t fire me.” Michael cowered jokingly as Gavin glared at him with _way_ too much affection in his eyes. “Gavin’s the big boss now Meg-” Michael said. “You wouldn’t want to get on his bad side.”

“I would never.” Meg laughed distantly. She wasn’t fully invested in the conversation but Michael and Gavin were far too invested in each other to notice, laughing and babbling as they continued to drink and talk loudly over each other about nothing and everything. As usual the existed in their own little Michael-and-Gavin bubble which she knew from experience wasn’t to be fucked with. Instead, she was far too caught up in scoping out the room, avoiding looking at Geoff until her eyes settled on a tall man with his back to her.

The man was talking, moving his hands excitedly and occasionally lifting them to his head to push his thick brown hair backwards. He was wearing a suit- like every other guy in the bar- but his jacket had been discarded to a booth and his sleeves were rolled up to just above his elbow. Meg’s heart sped up and she bit her lip anxiously.

Maybe she was just losing her mind. Meg _hoped_ she was just losing her mind.

He turned as the conversation died out, noticing her just as she noticed him. That led to a stare-off, silent and still from opposite ends of the bar as everyone else continued drinking and socialising and celebrating. Meg cursed inwardly. Ashley was right- his eyes _were_ to die for.

Before she even had a chance to react (her considered appropriate reactions had been screaming, crying and closing her eyes until the ground opened up and she fell directly into the earth’s molten core where she belonged) a familiar cologne swam into her personal space.

“No way.” Geoff Ramsey muttered into her ear. Meg held her breath at the warm tone of his voice against the side of her neck. It’d been a while since Geoff had even been this close to her. Maybe she needed it more than she thought she did. It’s been a while really since she’d even heard from him, outside the occasional text. But then, she figured it probably was a little unorthodox to have much regular conversation with your former escort who you left for your beautiful wife.

But then, Geoff was a pretty unorthodox man, breathing down her neck as she continued to stare at Ryan across the bar. Geoff had followed her gaze- it was too late to look away or pretend she was staring at someone else. He had seen.

“Geoff-” she started, turning to face him with a frown. But, Geoff wasn’t even looking at her. His eyes were too, fixed on Ryan just across the bar and like an idiot- Ryan was still staring over at them, mouth half formed around a greeting and glass of coke gripped tightly in his hand. Geoff chuckled dryly.

“No fucking way!” He repeated. Meg glared at him.

“Don’t start Geoff.” She threatened quietly. “I swear to God, if-”

“-I _never_ thought he’d take my advice and actually call up Ashley.”

Geoff wheezed another laugh as Meg stilled beside him. He ignored her, calling the bartender to set a whiskey down next to Meg’s still untouched cocktail. She wasn’t feeling particularly thirsty anymore.

“ _You_ put him up to it?” She asked, looking quickly between Geoff and Ryan, who was still awkwardly shifting on his feet as someone tried to make conversation with him. He clearly wasn’t listening, looking over to catch glimpse of them in the crowd every chance he got.

“Quiet.” Geoff told her, taking a long drink. Meg watched as the whiskey slipped down his throat without so much as a wince. He’d always been a steady drinker and it was half nine- around time for him to start getting drunk. “He’s coming over- I’ll leave you two be.”

“Wait- Geoff!”

“Later kids.” Geoff winked, just as Ryan appeared in front of her. She hadn’t even seen him made his way over, but there he was- watching Geoff leave silently as the boss gave him a cocky smirk and shot a wink in Meg’s direction.

“You two know each other?” He eventually asked, tilting his head curiously.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“This isn’t happening.”

Meg took in a long steady breath as she tottered up and down in an angry short pace (she had heels, the ground was a little uneven) across the length of the tiny alleyway down the side of the bar. Ryan stood opposite her on the wall, leant casually against it with his hands tucked in his expensive pockets and eyes following her every step as he cupped the flame of his lighter around the cigarette in his mouth.

“This is clearly a nightmare. I’m just sleeping.” Meg decided. Ryan scoffed from behind her, and she paused to glare at him.

“What?” he asked with a half-laugh, resting his head back against the cool brick wall. “It’s not that bad. It’s just Geoff- he won’t say anything.”

“You _don’t_ understand, Ryan.” Meg continued to pace, pushing her hair way from her face, flustered. “Michael, Gavin and Lindsay have no _idea_ what I do for a living and-”

“-and they will continue to have no idea.” A warm hand reached out to settle on her shoulder, stopping her from pacing. But it felt too familiar- his hand was too heavy and soft and Meg could only think about it creeping down to hold her waist so she shrugged away from him, taking a few extra steps until there was a considerable distance between them both. Ryan didn’t push further, just leant back to his spot on the wall and sighed, agitatedly, before taking another steady pull from his cigarette.

“What?” he asked. “What’s the problem?”

“You don’t understand Ryan.” Meg’s lip quivered slightly, but he held her hands tightly in fists to try and stop herself from becoming emotional. “I can’t do this! There’s too many links between me and you and people who I have no intention of telling the truth to. I already have too many affiliations with people at this God damn company- first Burnie and Ashley, and then Geoff-”

“-They’ve kept your secret this long.”

“And now you!” she ignored him. “How many more fucking employees am I gonna cross paths with? I may as well work for the fucking company as the personal _slut_.”

“Dolly-”

“-Don’t call me that.” She said quietly, glancing down to the contrast of his pristine leather shoes and the bleak dirty concrete of the damp alleyway. “Look,” she sighed. “I’m sorry Ryan, but I can’t have my personal life mixing with my business life. I always promised to myself that I’d keep them separate.”

“Doll-”

“My name is Meg!” she shouted, and regretted it almost immediately. Ryan raised his eyebrows but didn’t say a word. Meg felt the last of her resolve crumble and run down into the gutter as a few tears pooled in her eyes. “My name is Meg,” she repeated, quieter. “And now that you know that I can’t see you again. Ever. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t go-” he reached out for her again, but Meg shook him off and walked away, heading out into the street. She didn’t even look around when she heard him calling out her _real_ name, asking her to come back. Instead, Meg wrapped her arms around herself and walked out into her real home- the city, hailed a cab and sobbed quietly the whole way home.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Liked it? Please leave kudos!
> 
> Really liked it? Didn't? Questions? Leave a comment!!
> 
> Or, for more turnwood, raywood, mavin and others check out the rest of my AO3. General RTAH stuff (shippy and non-shippy), check out my tumblr - PAPERSK1N.tumblr.com


	5. Lifestyle of The Rich and Famous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Following her decision to stay away from Ryan, Meg makes some changes. Then, she gets the opportunity to do a little escorting of a very different kind.

_ Part Five: Lifestyle of The Rich and Famous _

 

 

 

Going back to her ‘Normal Life’ wasn’t as easy as she first thought.

What Meg had intended following from the bust-up outside the bar was to jump straight back into work. She took back the rough guys from Ashley, doubled her bookings so she didn’t have the time to longue around and think about _him_. She shopped around the city like a mayfly- alive for a night before she disappeared and the client didn’t need her again. She avoided regular appointments like the plague- left all that to Barbara and Arryn and the string of other young girls they had been slowly bringing in along with them.

All the new girls looked up to her, but Meg could only look back with distain. They were having so much fun doing all the things she used to do- but she had spoiled it for herself by becoming far too attached and now, she couldn’t even imagine being so carefree.

She avoided the website. Her five-star rating had slipped to a three and a half within two weeks and most of the written reviews Ashley forwarded to her were mediocre at best. One from a fireman who lived downtown hit her harder than the rest:

_Nice girl, excellent body… but she doesn’t feel real enough. Like she isn’t really there with you at all._

Yeah. So that one stung.

Meg didn’t have the luxury of lying to herself after that. She knew it and Ashley knew it and most of her clients probably had half an idea of what was going through her head. All she could think about was _Ryan_ and how much she would’ve preferred it if she was laying there panting with him rather than some mechanic with a wife and four kids that he kept trying to tell her about after he’d wiped his body fluids on her skin.

Ryan wouldn’t have done it like he did. Ryan would’ve taken care of her and cleaned her up if she asked and given her drinks and food that she didn’t have to refuse out of distrust. Ryan wouldn’t have handed her a used brown envelope with the address sticker still plastered on with a few greasy hundred dollar bills and then a twenty as her ‘tip’.

The twenty dollars paid for her cab back home at least.

“You miss him.” Geoff told her. They sat opposite each other in some fancy steak place after he’d called and asked to invite her out to lunch. He said it was to ‘catch up’, but she didn’t ‘catch up’ with Geoff any more. Her and Geoff hadn’t ‘caught up’ since he had his kid and earned himself a normal life.

But there they were, eating steak and sipping beers at one in the afternoon as he lectured her about leaving Ryan in the dirt all alone. As if it was _her_ fault in the first place.

“He’s really been moping.” Geoff finished his beer. “Like sitting all sullen in his office and barely speaking to anyone.”

“And that’s my problem?” she asked bitterly, stabbing at a cube of bleeding beef with her fork. Geoff smirked at her.

“Theoretically, yes!”

“Whatever.” Meg sighed. “I can’t Geoff. You know I don’t like mixing.”

“Listen.” Geoff leant forwards. His eyes were like Ryan’s- but much colder. Geoff’s eyes were like dry ice- they pulled you in and choked you out and infiltrated your vision until you couldn’t be aware of anything else. “Ryan’s had a rough time.” His voice grew less excited, and when his lips pressed into a pensive line for a thoughtful moment, Meg knew instantly that he was serious. “He went through a tough breakup a couple years ago and he could really use a solid girl like you in his life- you know, on call when he needs you.” He paused, and a pregnant silence fell onto the table. Meg set her fork down and suddenly didn’t feel hungry for the rest of her food. “Like I needed you.” Geoff said, licking his lips awkwardly and reaching across the table to brush hand with the tip of his knuckle. “Like you used to be there for me, when I was going through my divorce.”

Meg pulled her hand away. “Yeah,” she said, holding his gaze steadily. “And then you met your new wife and you didn’t need me anymore.”

“Meg,” Geoff sighed, leaning away from her and straightening his back awkwardly. “Now, you _know_ that’s not fair-”

“-I know.” Meg sighed. She had regretted her words from the minute they poured out of her mouth but if was already too late. The steaks sat untouched between them on the table, and Geoff’s fingers tapped against his glass to signal the waiter, who brought him over another. “I’m sorry, Geoff.” She shook her head, leaning on her elbows and running her fingers through her hair. “I just… it hurt- a lot at the time.” She looked back at up him. “You dumped me for a real girl and it _hurt_.”

“Meg- don’t be upset.” Geoff looked at her uncomfortably. Like he wanted to reach out, but if she did then everything around them would shatter suddenly. His hands curled into agitated fists and remained firmly on the table as Meg reclined back in her seat and avoided his eyes. “Talk to Ryan- please.” Geoff said, sliding over a white business card. She took it with a huff, sliding it into the side of her bag so it didn’t have to stare at her any longer.

“I won’t call him.” she shrugged, but something in Geoff’s eyes told her that he believed very differently and the business card burned a hole in her purse the whole way home.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Meg sat opposite Ryan’s business card for the next two days.

She had bookings, but they were quickly cancelled with a flimsy excuse of a bug in favour of wrapping herself up in her bed and blankets in front of the TV, watching Reality TV reruns and trying her hardest not to indulge in a staring contest with Ryan’s number.

The charade went on for two whole days before she heard the light, impatient tapping at her door and was met with the stormy face of Ashley Jenkins. Ashley was in full work mode- Starbucks in one hand and Blackberry in the other as she pushed her way into Meg’s apartment and glared around.

“What?” Meg huffed. Ashley rolled her eyes.

“I’ve come to dig you out of your grave.” She deadpanned. Meg didn’t reply.

The coffee was set down on the coffee table as Ashley lowered herself to the edge of the couch, watching with a pout as Meg crept into the tiny armchair opposite and laid back so she wouldn’t have to meet Ashley’s disapproving eyes.

“Meg-”

“Don’t.” Meg sniff. “If you’ve come to tell me off for playing hookey then I’m not interested. I’m sick.”

“You’re sick alright.” Ashley scoffed. Meg refused to meet her eyes as she drawled, _“Love sick_.” whilst the Blackberry pinged repeatedly.

“Shut up.” She mumbled. “I’m fine.”

Checking her phone briefly, Ashley leant forwards to rest on her knees and watched Meg with a steady intensity that had her squirming, sitting up a little straighter like a school kid who had been caught smoking by her principal. However, Ashley didn’t look so stern anymore. If anything, she looked concerned.

“You know you can talk to me, right?” She said. “I’ve been there Meg. Falling for clients… it’s- magical, terrible.” She looked far-away, as if gazing into the memory of her own experiences across the room. “It’s dangerous.” She smiled, and without thinking, twisted the sparkling diamond around her finger. “But sometimes it’s worth it.”

“Not this time, Ash.” Meg huffed, shrugging herself further into the over-sized hoody she had been draped in for the last few days. “I’m not you and Ryan certainly isn’t Burnie.”

“Then why’d you look so sad?” Ashley asked, a small smile lingering on the corner of her lips. Meg sniffed.

“I’m not sad.” She choked. Ashley stood immediately, simpering and _aww-_ ing as she made her way across the gap and knelt down to hug Meg tightly as a few stray tears fled from her eyes. “I’m not sad.” She repeated. Ashley didn’t believe her- but that didn’t matter. All Meg cared about was whether or not she believed herself.

“Is it really over?” Ashley asked. “You and Ryan- are you done? Because I can call him-”

“-Don’t call him!” Meg sniffed, sitting up abruptly and wiping her eyes harshly. As if she could _ever_ be so pathetic as to cry to her boss over a client. That wasn’t her M.O. Meg’s mantra was professionalism, and it was in the framework of the life she had structured for herself. The only way Ryan was going to tear that down was if she didn’t have the strength to stop him. “I’m fine.” She insisted, after a pause that went on far too long. “I just want to be done with it. You know, get back on the horse.”

“Are you sure?” Ashley took a step back as Meg got up from the chair, rushing across the room to wipe at her face in the mirror. Ashley watched as she scurried, grabbing a packet of tissues off the coffee table and using them to dab at eyelashes. “Meg- if you don’t want to do this job anymore-”

“This job is my life.” Meg interrupted without tearing her eyes from the mirror. “It’s my livelihood. It’s all I’ve known for the past five years and I’m not giving it up- not now when I’m in my fucking prime. I won’t let Ryan do that to me.”

The thought occurred to Ashley that Meg wasn’t speaking to her at all when she spoke, as her eyes only locked with their own reflection in the mirror.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Being a prostitute is a lot easier when you don’t have any feelings.

More clients meant more money to waste on cigarettes and clothes and sushi deliveries. From the second Meg realised that she truly had been moping like a girl with her heart broken she did what any athlete would- she stood up, brushed herself off and jumped right back onto the horse.

Work was work- nothing had changed, except everything had changed because she didn’t care half as much. She let herself have fun- but not enough for the memory to stick. Clients came and went like the moon and the sun- names weren’t nearly important. She knew clients by occupation and location alone- Brooklyn Nurse, Bronx accountant, Tribeca film critic. This was enough to keep them at arm’s length- and they weren’t complaining when they had her mouth around their intimates. She still steered clear of the city boys, but they hardly wanted her anyway. The city boys had attention spans of toddlers- anything new and shiny caught their eye so Meg found herself often cast aside in favour of the new girls. The Barbara’s and the Arryn’s and the swarm of others that buzzed around them like followers. Meg had somewhat convinced herself that it didn’t bother her in the slightest- but still took on an extra two sessions a week with a personal trainer down at the gym. Just to stay healthy, obviously.

The next step to L.A.R (as she was referring to _Life After Ryan_ ) was updating her portfolio. Jon, a friend from her college days who still work in the city, came over one afternoon and made magic happen in the middle of her bedroom with some spotlights and his camera. The spread on the website was gorgeous- black and white exclusive photos with the most beautiful of silks and fabrics that fitted her body like beautiful gloves. After that- she wasn’t a twenty-three-year-old in a revealing vest top and pretty underwear anymore. She couldn’t attract that kind of crowd with her level of experience nor price range so her photos were completely _classic_ \- black lingerie and high boots and corsets that covered more than they needed to. Classier clients liked it when you had more covered up, because it left so much more to the imagination.

And once the photos debuted on the website, her bank balance did nothing but increase along with her star rating.

Her plan- unhealthy and emotionally unstable admittedly- worked. Meg watched as her reviews got better and somewhere, in her mind- she did start to enjoy it more. It was like she had stepped into a time machine and gone back to the times before she even knew Ryan’s name. she had _fun_ with her clients again- it didn’t matter who they were. Clients with weird fetishes for food and flashing lights made work a party every night, and the weirder the better- because fetish clients had to pay double (especially if she had the scent of stale milk from whipped cream sitting in her hair for the next day)

Two weeks into _L.A.R_ , Meg received a call from Ashley for her highest paying, classiest job yet.

“Girlfriend- but only for an _evening_.”

“I don’t do the girlfriend experience Ash!” She whined, rifling through lace in a fabric store. “We’ve been over this a hundred times.”

“Not the girlfriend experience, hear me out.” Ashley insisted. Meg huffed. “This particular job has double the pay- _and_ you don’t even need to sleep with the guy.”

Meg arched a brow, gathering fabric into her basket for a costume (cosplay fetish clients had started popping up and Meg’s seamstress skills came busting straight out of the memory bank for nearly triple her usual rate). “Okay.” She headed towards the cashier. “Now I’m interested.”

The job was shockingly easy for such a high price. It was a party- and for once she actually was doing what her job title suggested. She was _escorting_ some rich city executive to a party and playing girlfriend for a few hours. The high price came for the high level of exposure and the exclusivity of the event. It was all going down in some private club that Meg had only ever heard of in whispers and rumours. The level of prestige was through the roof and with her new, classier photos- the client had apparently _demanded_ that he had her and no-one else.

So Meg allowed herself some retail therapy and bought a stunning, shimmering silver gown and four hundred dollar heels (dressing up as _Black Widow_ and having sex with a nerd for a grand total of eight minutes was more than worth the cost of the leather) before hopping into a sleek black car that pulled up five minutes’ walk from her apartment.

The car was empty, but the chauffer was nice enough and chatted with her the whole journey to the party. It was in the strangest of locations, just on the outskirts of the city centre down a few backstreets and across a shadowy bridge but from the outside of the building Meg could already sense that this job was a very _very_ big deal.

She gave her pseudonym _Doll_ to the six foot five security guard with the mirrored aviator sunglasses and he nodded silently before stepping aside, opening the door to the swankiest, most beautiful building she had ever set foot in.

It looked like a grand, classic theatre that had been converted into a ballroom; buffet tables lining the lengths of the room and giant draping crystal chandeliers dotting the painted ceiling. One long red carpet ran through the centre of the room but every other surface was sparking vinyl and deep red velour, right down to the edge of the giant bar.

“Doll?” a familiar voice called. Meg turned around to see Burnie- alone with a hand lazily tucked into his pocket behind her. She smiled, but couldn’t help but feel a little uneasy knowing that he had referred to her as her business name. That could only mean that her client was somewhere nearby,

“Hi.” She smiled anyway, well aware that eyes around the room were fixating on her as she made her way through the crowd. “Burnie. You okay?”

“I’m good, thank you.” Burnie smiled. “I’m here to take you to meet your date for the evening.”

“Oh!” Meg took the drink that a passing waiter handed her and sipped it slowly. “Thanks, Burnie. I was wondering if I was going to have to find him- which would’ve been impossible because I have no idea what the hell he even looks like.” She laughed as they made their way across the room, towards the more secluded booths towards the back. “Besides,” she asked. “How do you know him?”

“How do I know him?” Burnie chuckled. His dark eyes sparkled and Meg suddenly felt a little uneasy in her stomach. “He’ll tell ya. Here he is now-” he pointed across the room, but there was a sea of Men in varying shades of _rich_ , gathered together in conversation. One however looked the slightest bit familiar, for a second- until he turned around and she saw his face and wondered if perhaps she had been drugged.

“Ryan Haywood.” Burnie introduced with a grin. “But hey, you two know each other- right?"

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Please don’t be mad.” Ryan said, as soon as Burnie wandered off. It was the first thing he had said to her in over two weeks, and the sheer tone of his voice sent vibrations through her that she couldn’t comprehend nor understand. “Meg.” He said her name so softly and with such familiarity, that she momentarily forgot he had only learnt it on their last encounter. “Please- I had _nothing_ to do with this.”

“Nothing to do with this?!” she yelled, but quickly lowered her tone when a few curious eyes looked over in their direction. “I-” she bit her lip harshly, hoping her lipstick wouldn’t stain her teeth. “You called the fucking _agency_? When I _told_ you I couldn’t see you- I can’t believe you would even-”

“I didn’t!” Ryan gritted his teeth, holding his arms up. “I didn’t call anyone! I got invited to this stupid event and Burnie said he was going to set me up with a date.”

Meg stilled. “W-What?”

“He said he’d set me up-” Ryan quickly explained with an agitated huff in the direction of Burnie, who had rushed off across the room quickly. “I’d been moping for weeks so I _thought_ he was being nice. But I suppose in reality… he and Ashley were just setting up _this_.”

“I hate her.” Meg frowned, ignoring every instinct she had to call up Ashley and sob over the phone how much she loved her. She hadn’t realised in the last few weeks how much Ryan’s presence actually lifted her, and suddenly, it was like a pressure was released from her chest and she could breathe again. “She’s the worst.”

“They both are.” Ryan agreed, and the two fell into a tense silence.

“Still.” Meg said, when she couldn’t bear it anymore. “Can’t exactly leave now. This outfit cost me a fortune.”

It was hard to watch, as Ryan’s eyes moved back to her and drank her in, slowly dragging from her feet up to her face until his gaze settled on hers and he smiled, soft and genuine.

“You look very beautiful.” He said quietly. “Absolutely stunning.”

She couldn’t help it. Fucking _Ryan Haywood_ and his stupid white smile and blue eyes and endearing expression. As if she could’ve ever resisted it for a single second once they were in the same room.

“You really haven’t called the agency since… yeah?” the phrase _broke up_ lingered on her tongue but she refused to say it out loud in fear that if she did- it would suddenly become real. Ryan shook his head.

“If I couldn’t have you I wasn’t interested. You wanted you space so I deleted the number. Tried to move on and failed miserably.” He laughed, briefly- but it was too easy to join in. A couple of people pushed past them in a swarm, but one hung back and turned to face Ryan with a smile.

“Haywood- this your date?”

“Huh? Uh…” Ryan looked to Meg. She’d been hired as his date, sure- but was either one of them ready to say it out loud? Meg bit her lip again.

“Yeah, I am.” She said. “Meg.” Limp handshake. “Nice to meet you.”

She tried to ignore the way Ryan looked at her then the way her grandpa looked at his most cherished photograph album.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“So,” Meg laughed, stirring the olive around her dry martini as they watched the show on stage from their table. “You were gonna go on a real date with a girl you didn’t even have to pay?”

“Nah, I’d have to pay her. Burnie made that clear.” Ryan laughed. “I assume Ashley is an excellent business woman and you’re getting an incredibly lucrative cut. I only really said yes to get him off my back.”

“Oh, she’s the best.”

They laughed together as the brief performance wound to a close and the servers were out again, gliding across the ballroom with trays of hors d’oeuvres that Ryan couldn’t stop picking at, even when she slapped at his hand and warned him that pastry was fitness’ enemy. He teased her for being a gym freak and she teased him for being obsessed with everything free until they felt normal again, and another familiar face rocked up to join them.

Geoff was never one to do anything by halves and was kitted out in a pristine black tuxedo and satin (real) bowtie so that his colourful tattoos were almost completely covered, freshly cut moustache twisted and sculpted within an inch of its life. His hair looked almost wet with gel as it sat shining on his head and his teeth were blindingly white as he grinned at them.

“My, my, my.” He clucked. “Isn’t this cosy?”

“Go away Geoff.” Ryan glared, as Geoff reached forwards to slick Ryan’s hair back playfully and Meg laughed at the two of them. “Stop harassing me.”

“Hey- I totally get it, hot girl like that.” He shot Meg a playful wink. “Don’t have no time for an old friend like me.”

“Exactly.” Meg smirked at him. “So beat it buddy. Go and socialise until you’re drunk enough to get up on stage.”

“I’m halfway there.” He said with a shrug. As he had spoken, he had reached out and grabbed a whisky in a crystal glass off of a passing waiter’s tray. “I won’t keep you kids from your little date.”

“Whatever _dad_.” Meg rolled her eyes. Geoff grinned.

“Meg please- I thought that was just between us? You just go ahead and share your kinks like candy these days?” he held the glass to his chest, pained. “You’ve changed.”

“Please.” Meg scoffed, briefly smirking at Ryan as his cheeks flushed red. “I think you mean _your_ kinks, kiddo. But don’t worry- I’m fairly sure they’re public knowledge these days, right daddy?”

“Whatever.” Geoff laughed. He reached forwards and swiped the olive from her glass, biting into it harshly enough they could hear the juice squirt out. “I’ll leave you be, for now.” His eyes shifted from Meg, back over to Ryan. “Ry- you’ve got a nice girl here. Not my type- _obviously_ but… a lovely girl nonetheless. Treat her nicely.”

“I will, daddy- don’t worry.” Ryan teased, blowing a kiss. Geoff laughed loudly, before turning on his heel and wandering back into the party, leaving Meg and Ryan again on the table.

“Hate that guy. Love him to death.”

“Same.” Meg smiled fondly at the silk table cloth, tracing a figure eight with a pointed nail. “Hey,” she looked back up at Ryan and her smile didn’t fade. “What time is it?”

Ryan glanced at his expensive watch. “Eleven forty-two. Why?”

“It’s getting kind of late.” She shrugged, smirking at him across the table. But then, Ryan had never been the type to pick up hints very well- so she reached directly across the table and ran her fingers softly over the back of his hand. “Ryan.” She said his name- softly and quietly the way he liked her to, and when he met her eyes his skin flushed pink. “Take me home?”

He swallowed. “I’ll call a car.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

That was the night that Meg broke her most important rule.

Going back to Ryan was bad enough in the first place. It was a terrible decision from the moment she sipped her way through three martinis to the exact moment she came with him inside her, laid out on his expensive bedsheets in the middle of the bed that was far too grand for only one person. It was a terrible decision from the moment she had laid eyes on him across the room, but by then it was already long past too late.

Ryan collapsed in a heap on top of her after he found his release, and not a single part of Meg’s brain screamed for her to leave. Ryan barely said a word, all she could hear was the faint puffs of breath and then the plastic pulling of a condom followed by the wet slapping sound of it being tossed across the room and into a trashcan. He didn’t say anything, so she kept silent as well for peace’s sake. For a second, she told her legs to swing over the side and start walking but Ryan had turned them completely into jello with his body and his eyes and the way he said her name- he _real name_ when he came. It’d been a while since she’d heard that and when he whispered it again, laid beside her afterwards she knew that she had made her decision a long time before they’d even started.

Meg rolled over, looked at him and smiled, before laying against his chest and falling immediately into a deep sleep. She didn’t open her eyes again until he left her at seven thirty the next morning with a kiss on the forehead and a whispered promise of breakfast before he had to leave for work. She didn’t even run then, just allowed herself to wake up slowly, stretch around the Egyptian cotton and _wait_ as the New York city sunlight streamed through the windows until Ryan appeared with a tray and a smile and hickeys littering his chest as he tried to quickly button up his dress shirt.

“I’m really sorry I have to go. You can’t imagine how much I wish I was in that bed right now.” He huffed, brushing his hair backwards in the mirror. She caught eyes with his reflection and grinned around a streak of grilled bacon, saying nothing. It was far too late for words. She was in his bed, the morning after engaging in such pleasantries as breakfast and dressing. Words were redundant.

Ryan didn’t say much else, but did rifle through the inside pocket of his discarded jacket from the night before and hand her a crisp white envelope. Meg thumbed open the seal and counted the notes mentally with her lip held worriedly between her teeth. And she thought staying the night was the worst thing she could do.

“What?” he asked, as she held half of the bills back in his direction. “Is it not the right amount?”

Meg watched him for a second, still in his rush concerned about her wellbeing and sighed. “Nothing in the job description said I had to sleep with you. The party was the deal. The rest was my treat.” She offered with an unsure smile, wondering if he would be offended. Thankfully, after the initial confused pause he smiled at her and accepted the money, before leaning in to kiss her softly on the cheek.

“Fuck.” He exhaled, leaning back and tucking the money into his blazer before catching sight of his watch. “Now I really have to go.” He bit his lip frustrated as Meg sipped at the glass of Orange Juice he had brought her. Ryan’s eyes lingered on body, covered in the bedsheets for another few longing seconds. “But I really don’t want to.” He bit his lip.

“Go.” She told him with a soft smile. “I won’t be here when you get back but… feel free to call me. I think I can pencil you in.”

Neither of them spoke another word, but the grin on his face was more than enough representation of how he felt. That was the exact moment that Meg knew she was completely screwed.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

Meg was not a woman of tradition.

Elements of her job aside, routine had always been something so trivial to her, that he hardly bothered with it. The last thing Meg wanted from the way she lived her life was to ever be bored- spontaneity came as naturally as breathing. Meg went where the wind took her and tried her best not to plan too much of her own life in favour of living it.

Her friends were the opposite. Michael, Gavin and Lindsay were nothing if not creatures of habit. They were always attempting to rope her into their silly traditions and scheduled outings- _lux_ club on Thursday nights and _The Elm Tree_ bar on Saturdays. Pizza and Video games on Sunday afternoons and barbeque ribs on Tuesday lunches. She rarely showed- with her unpredictable work schedule she could never afford the luxury of being able to promise her attendance anywhere.

But there was one tradition that she stuck to.

On the second Friday of the month, every month, they’d have a Mario Party night. It was one of the key things that kept them so close as friends- their shared love for the stupid Nintendo 90’s party game. They’d gather at Lindsay’s colour drowned apartment and order in Chinese food, fire up the N64 or Michael’s Nintendo Wii and play round after round until Gavin and Michael were no longer speaking, Lindsay was too drunk to chew and Meg could forget, for a little while, that she was the worst friend in the world.

“Another beer boi?”

“You know it!”

“Meg?”

Meg looked up to see Michael, entering from the kitchen with a fresh crate in his hands. She reached out and took the beer offered to her, regretting the fattening affect before it had the chance to touch her lips. However, it was Mario Party night. On Mario Party night- she went with the group. She drank beer and she ate Chinese and she tried her damn best to let _Doll_ go.

This Mario Party night was considerably harder than the previous ones, and that was completely down to the fact that suddenly- she couldn’t just shed _Doll_ and be Meg. Because now that Ryan was in the fray- the two had become more blurred than ever.

It certainly didn’t help that she’d seen him again and again since the night of the party. Ryan was officially her regular now- much to Ashley’s smarmy satisfaction and she couldn’t even lie to herself anymore that she didn’t fucking love every minute she spent with him.

It wasn’t just sex anymore, with Ryan. The sex was still a huge part (and still _leagues_ above the kind of sex she’d been having with her other clients) but there was something more developing between them when they touched. Meg would find herself being treated with champagne and strawberries and clothes and shoes. There was a new gift sitting on Ryan’s coffee table every time she showed up to see him and she had a collection of unopened white envelopes stuffed with cash gathering in her bedroom. For some reason, she didn’t quite have the heart to open a single one of them.

Booking Ryan as a regular meant that a lot of her hours were over taken by him, so once again, her business was declining solely due to the lack of flexibility she had. Ryan was a busy man, working not too far under Burnie so he had distinctive slots of time when he was free and when he wasn’t and Meg soon found herself moulding her own schedule so she could see him as often as possible. So it wasn’t as if becoming Ryan’s regular was particularly lucrative. That told Meg that maybe, she wasn’t just in it for the money anymore.

And wasn’t that supposed to be the whole point?

“Meg!”

She looked over to see Lindsay, Michael and Gavin all staring at her from the couch.

“What?” she asked.

“It’s your turn.” Lindsay nodded to the TV. “We’ve been waiting for you to come back from la-la land for the last two minutes.”

“Oh.” Meg swore at herself internally and scrambled to sit up, fumbling with the controller to make her turn as short and uneventful as possible as Michael, Gavin and Lindsay continued to stare at her. “Red space.” She _wanted_ to pretend that she was invested in the game- but her friends were pretty smart. Even a few beers in, they weren’t buying it for a second.

“What’s up?” Michael asked when her turn was over. Meg shook her head and sipped at her beer.

“Nothing at all.”

“Please.” Gavin scoffed. “Clearly you’re somewhere else tonight- so what is it. Guy trouble?”

“God no.” Meg lied, reaching forwards to grab her take-out carton. Anything to distract them from the very prominent truth that _yes_ she was having guy problems and _no_ , not a single one of them would be able to do anything to help her. “I’ve just been… getting a lot of migraines and stuff recently. I went to the doctors and they did some scans that I haven’t seen the results for yet… so, I’m just a little worried about that.”

She hated herself. She had lied- bare face lied without even blinking to her best friends as their gazes shifted from curious to worried and Meg felt like punching herself in the face.

 _You’re the worst_ , she thought. _You’re the fucking worst._

“Ah, well- hopefully everything will be fine.” Gavin watched her with big concerned eyes and Meg bit into her lip, but nodded and stuck with the lie, pretending to agree with him. “And- hey, we’ve got news for you, haven’t we guys?” he looked over to Lindsay and Michael, who both nodded.

“Yeah- see we’ve got this friend who _needs_ to fucking date someone.” Lindsay explained. “Seriously- he’s a great guy but I don’t know, guess he’s got no game because we never see him with anyone.”

“You wanna set me up? On a _date_?” Meg scoffed. _Dating_ \- was that what her and Ryan were doing? Was it dating when one party paid the other for sex? Probably not. It’d been a long time since Meg had been _dating_ anyone.

“Blind date.” Michael nodded. “You know, give him at least a chance to get his dick wet.”

“Hey!” Gavin laughed. “Our Turney’s a lady, I’ll have you know.”

“Is she?” Michael scoffed. “Or was that just her excuse not to fuck _you_?”

“Asshole!”

Lindsay and Meg rolled their eyes fondly as the boys began to scrap, rolling from the sofa to the floor, video games forgotten. Lindsay turned to sit at the other end of the couch, facing Meg and tuning the idiots out.

“Seriously.” She leant forwards. “He’s a really cool guy. I think you’ll like him.”

Meg sighed. On one hand- she had no business dating anyone that knew anything about Lindsay or Michael or Gavin. She couldn’t date someone without being completely honest about what she did and she couldn’t risk that with one of their friends.

But then, there was the other issue in the back of her mind. _Ryan-fucking-Haywood_. If she wasn’t careful, she’d end up falling for him. And that was the last thing she wanted.

“Sure.” Meg blurted out before she had a chance to stop herself. “I’ll go on the date. No big deal.”

If there was one thing Meg could be sure on at all- it’s that the words coming out of her mouth had absolutely no correlation to the ones in her head.


	6. Date Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meg goes on her blind date. No prizes for guessing correctly who it is waiting for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A day early! Surprise?

_ Part Six: Date Night _

 

 

 

 

In hindsight, Meg should’ve known something was strange when the unfamiliar feeling of butterflies in her stomach started up when her cab rolled to a stop outside the restaurant. It was swanky, sure- not as swanky as some of the places she’d been taken recently, but nice enough for a blind date. Nothing she couldn’t handle with a short dress and high shoes.

So why did she feel nervous? Because some _guy_ was going to buy her dinner and hope she had sex with him? In Meg’s experience, guys never made her nervous- only girls could do that. Girls are hot- men are easy. Or at least, those were the words she repeated to herself as the front of house led her to the table where her date would be waiting.

Meg kept her eyes fixed to the floor as the front of house navigated them through the restaurant, towards the more private area in the back. _This is a blind date_ , she told herself. _Don’t scan the fucking area for every single man sitting alone._

“This is your table, ma’am.”

Meg looked up, and the butterflies were gone. Suddenly, she felt completely empty- and she couldn’t tell if it was a good or a terrible, terrible feeling.

“Meg?”

She gulped. “ _Ryan?”_

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“I should’ve fucking known.” Meg sat down at the table, pushing her hair out of her face whilst doing her best not to get lost immediately in Ryan’s heavy gaze. He was sat opposite the table in his nice black suit- the one he wore when he took her out only a week ago- with a strange sort of smirk on his face and heat in his glare.

“It’s starting to get a little weird, isn’t it?” he asked. “How often the universe thrusts us together like this- no pun intended, of course.”

Meg couldn’t help herself. She laughed at his stupid joke and sipped the glass of wine that was suddenly placed beside her by a silent waiter.

“You’re filthy.” She smirked. “I love it.”

“Indeed.” Ryan held out his glass- likely nothing more than diet coke darkening the ice cubes and she held her flute up to toast him. “To a delightful evening.” He said and she parroted him, the same swarm of excitement and dread filling her body as she drained the glass and called for another.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

This time around, Ryan was the one kissing her until she couldn’t believe that he was an actual, earthly being rather than some kind of deviant alien. Ryan was a good kisser- she knew that, but there was something different about the way he kissed her once they were in his apartment that night. It could’ve been the expensive wine going to her head or maybe, she was just drunk off the fun of the evening itself. Whatever the reason, when Ryan’s lips travelled from her mouth down her neck and to her collarbone, Meg couldn’t help but wrap her body around him and try and pull herself impossibly closer.

He complied. Ryan had become pretty good at reading her body language over the last few times they had had sex so he didn’t hesitate before tucking his arms under her thighs and lifting her up into his arms. His lips didn’t stop their assault across her skin as he rushed them towards the bedroom so she didn’t stop arching her back and pressing her warm skin into his soft shirt. They couldn’t really _get_ any closer, but Meg still ached for more in his touch and she couldn’t understand why. Perhaps Ryan did, because he didn’t drop her onto the bed. He turned once they were in the room and pressed her against the wall, resting their foreheads together softly for a moment as they both became very aware that their heaving breaths were the only sounds in the room.

“Why’d you stop?” she asked him quietly, once she couldn’t bare the silence anymore. Neither of them had shed a single item of clothing, but Ryan as watching her with such hot intensity in his eyes that she felt completely naked in front of him.

“I just wanted to look at you.” He explained, but his voice was low and distant- like he could hardly form speech himself. His eyes seemed to drag their way across every inch of her body painfully slowly as his hold did not falter, until eventually, he looked up into her face again.

“You are completely unlike anyone I have ever known.” He said, and when Meg looked up and into his eyes, she knew it was the truth.

Meg didn’t deal in the truth. The truth wasn’t part of her job description. But with Ryan standing there, staring at her with all the love in the world glowing behind the dazzling blue irises oh his eyes she couldn’t stop every fibre of her being from screaming out that she loved him.

Words were redundant. She didn’t need words to tell Ryan she loved him. Instead he leant forwards to kiss him sweetly- almost chastely as if he didn’t have her pressed up against the wall with his crotch rubbing between her thighs. She kissed him like a child in a playground- and it felt like the most genuine she had ever allowed herself to be with him.

“Fuck me, Ryan.” She whispered, after. “Please.”

Ryan didn’t say much else after that.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Meg awoke, as she usually did, to Ryan standing in front of his bedroom mirror. He was messing with his hair, shrugging on his suit and trying to stuff his feet into expensive shoes at the same time- so she glanced to the clock and noted that he should’ve left well over half an hour ago.

“You’re making a habit of being late because of me.” she smirked, stepping out of the bed and reaching for his discarded shirt from the night before. She wrapped it around herself just in time for him to turn around, a soft smile settling on his face as he watched her. The shirt smelled like nothing other than _Ryan_ , and subconsciously, Meg pulled it around herself a little tighter.

“Worth it.” He smiled, as she walked over slowly and placed a soft kiss at his cheek. “Will I do?” he asked.

“Here.” She huffed a laugh, reaching up to fix his collar. “Perfect. Nobody’ll suspect a thing.”

“Right.” He laughed, kissing her again before picking up his briefcase and then, after a pause, his wallet from the dresser. “Oh, here.” He said, rifling through the inside and pulling out a stack of bills. He handed them towards her without pausing for a second to think, the regret sparking in his eyes the minute they settled on hers.

“W- _what_?” she said, quietly. The money hung in the air and they both stared at it, and then each other, for a few tense moments. After that, Ryan swallowed thickly and stuffed the money back into his pocket quickly.

“I’m- I’m sorry.” He stammered, watching as her expression turned hurt. “This was a date- wasn’t it? A real date- I just… it’s a reflex, and Meg- honestly I’m so sorry. It was a real date. It was.”

Meg looked up at Ryan, but only when her vision of him blurred did she realised that tears had welled in her eyes.

“Fuck you!” she shouted, because really, she had nothing else to say. It wasn’t Ryan’s fault they’d ended up in such a predicament- it was her own. She had ruined herself completely by doing the one thing she always promised she wouldn’t. she mixed her personal and her professional life- and finally, she was paying the price.

Because Ryan couldn’t differentiate between the two.

“I’m sorry!” Ryan called as she hastily pulled on her dress from the night before, gathering her things with a seething anger radiating off her body. “Meg- please, let’s talk about this- stay-”

“Don’t _ever_ contact me again.” She said, even though she didn’t mean it. But, as if in her very programming, the firewall was already flying up to mask her emotions and protect the areas that she felt to be the weakest. It was too late to turn back, she was already halfway out the door in a two-hundred-dollar dress and six inch stilettos because for the second time in her life- a client had completely and unknowingly shattered her heart.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“Meg?”

“Get me a client.” She snapped. Meg had barely been back in her apartment for an hour, but after a quick shower and some bland, soggy cereal- she wanted nothing more than something to take her mind off of the morning’s events. “Anyone Ashley- I don’t care. Get me some fucking work.”

“Meg, tell me what’s wrong-”

“Nothing is wrong!” she yelled. “Nothing is wrong.” She repeated, quieter and hopefully, calmer, after a long pause on Ashley’s end. Meg bit her lip, agitated. “I’m fine. Just get me a client, please.”

“Meg- I’m not sending you to anyone in this state- for your mental health as well as my reputation. Not until you chill out.”

“I’m perfectly chilled out!” she screamed. Ashley sighed.

“What you think I can just snap a client out of thin air at nine thirty in the morning, Meg?” Ashley snapped, and immediately, Meg knew she had gone too far. Ashley never snapped. Ashley was the embodiment of professionalism. “How many clients do you see aside from Ryan these days anyway?”

“I-” Meg tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. She didn’t have a single thing to respond.

“The new clients are going straight for the new kids- you know that. I can’t magic you a client because according to your profile, you’re always booked. Clients don’t want a girl they can’t hold out on.”

Meg’s heart sunk to her stomach. Had she truly fucked her business up this badly? Had she really thrown away her perfect track record and renowned reputation for an ignorant city boy who could think of her as nothing more than a slut for hire?

“You know what Meg?” Ashley said, catching Meg’s attention. How long had she been there, on the other end of the phone- listening to Meg breathe heavily and stare at herself in the mirror as a complete stranger looked back. “Maybe you’re just not cut out for it anymore.”

Meg looked at the stranger in the mirror. Suddenly, the phone felt too hot in her hands.

“I quit.” She said, hanging up before Ashley even had a chance to respond.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shorter chapter than usual (don't worry, the next two will be much longer) but it's drama FILLED! Hope you enjoyed, let me know what you thought in the comments below!
> 
> Q: Do you think Ryan's opinion of Meg is as low as she believes? Do you think Meg acted irrationally to Ryan, or was she completely in reason? Most importantly, do you think Meg made the right decision about her career? 
> 
> And, as always, check out the rest of my AO3 for more turnwood/raywood/mavin etc and HMU on tumblr (PAPERSK1N.tumblr.com)


	7. Changes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meg talks to Lindsay and decides to tackle the Ryan Haywood Theorem straight on.

 

Part Seven: Changes

 

 

Meg stared at the phone as it sat on the coffee table and rang for the sixth time consecutively.

The first two had been Ashley, calls Meg was certainly not staring at with a quickening heart rate and a sweaty brow. She certainly wasn’t hoping for anything else but Ashley to show up at her apartment and ask her how she felt because she _didn’t_ know.

There weren’t many things Meg did know in that moment. Only one fact stuck out:

She had quit her job.

The next three calls were from Lindsay. Meg knew that by the blown up photo of Lindsay’s face that filled the screen every time she called. Even from her new semi—permanent position in life (curled up in a ball on the couch whilst _Here Comes Honey Boo-Boo_ looped on the TV to give her some hope that her life was normal) she could make out Lindsay’s giant adorable fucking face.

They’d probably be worried about her. Her friends- she hadn’t even tried contacting them since the last Mario party night and ignored most of the texts in the group chat.

Meg sighed and cleared her throat, reaching over for the phone with hope Lindsay wouldn’t be listening intently enough to notice she had been crying.

“Hiya, Linds.” She answered, as chipper as she could.

“Meg!”

Thankfully, Lindsay hadn’t noticed a thing.

“I’ve been meaning to call you about your blind date- how was it? How was Ryan? Did you like him? I said he was handsome- didn’t I?”

Meg swallowed thickly as Lindsay assaulted her with a barrage of questions. She didn’t know which to answer first- how was the date? It was incredible, until she had gone home with Ryan and broken all of her rules simultaneously. But then, Lindsay couldn’t know that.

“It was good.” She settled on. Not too keen- not to reluctant. Perfectly average.

“Yeah, we thought you’d be a good match.” Lindsay said. “Ryan’s a super nice guy.”

“He is.” Meg played with her hair between her fingers. That was one thing she couldn’t dispute. Things would be so much easier if Ryan was an asshole- but sadly, he was lovely. That only made her feel worse for avoiding his calls.

“He’s honestly fantastic.” Lindsay gushed. “We’ve all known him a couple years from work and stuff. He used to be quiet but now he’s super relaxed and funny and shit. Little awkward sometimes but- yeah, he’s a really nice guy.”

“Hey Lindsay.” Meg bit her lip. “Ryan… he- I uh, I kind of… got the impression that maybe he once had… someone? I don’t know, like a tough break up.”

She had blundered her away around any mention of Geoff Ramsey and a conversation over steaks and beers. Thankfully, Lindsay barely noticed the hesitancy in her voice.

“Oh yeah.” She said. “When he joined the company he was… I’m not sure? Married possibly. He was with someone and they treated him like shit or something. He doesn’t like to talk about it but… the break up was rough. I think,” Lindsay paused, and Meg could imagine her sat on that stupid colourful sofa with her feet in Michael’s lap and her brow furrowed in concentration. “I think he loved her a lot, even though she was so awful to him. So it hurt him a lot when they were over and he hasn’t dated since.”

Meg’s heart broke a fraction more down the massive split that held Ryan’s name. So, on top of being the nicest guy ever- he was broken-hearted too?

“Fuck.” Meg sighed, before she had a chance to stop herself.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Meg said. “Nothing- I’m just… thinking about a lot.”

“Well, think about Ryan.” Lindsay said, and Meg could hear the smile in her voice. “I mean it when I say he’s a nice guy. He’d be good for you Meg. You deserve someone like that.”

“I do.” Meg said. And, for once, she actually considered believing it.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

She had been standing outside the door for eight minutes and forty-three seconds exactly before Meg managed to drum up the courage to knock at Ryan’s door.

She’d even been too cowardly to buzz his apartment at the front of the building- no, instead she’d talked her way around the doorman and slipped into the elevator blending into a group of excitable women on their way home from an evening out. Now, she was loitering in the corridor with her hands hovering above the gleaming wood.

Meg knocked, loud and slow. An inestimable amount of time later, Ryan opened the door.

“Meg!” he stepped forwards, as if he was going to pull her into a hug before he stopped himself, swallowed and stepped aside, nodding for her to go on in. Meg’s feet felt like deadlift weights as she dragged them into Ryan’s sparkling apartment as he closed the door with a click behind her.

“Hi.” He said, probably because he had nothing else to say. Meg didn’t reply.

“Do you… uh- want something to drink?” Ryan asked. Meg nodded.

“I’ll have a glass of water please.”

“You’re not pregnant are you?” Ryan joked, clearly attempting to break the ice. Meg couldn’t bring herself to laugh- she just stared at him blankly as the colour drained from his face and he rushed towards her hurriedly, hands grabbing at her shoulders suddenly. “Meg?” he asked again. “You’re not pregnant, are you?”

“No- I’m not pregnant.” Meg shook her head, cracking a smile at the absurdity. “I- you just caught me off guard. No- I’m not pregnant. I have to take birth control regularly under my contract, jeez, no.”

Ryan sighed in relief. “Oh. Thank God- I’ll go and get you that water.”

“I’ll wait.” She nodded awkwardly, walking over to the pristine sofa where they had been sitting together only a week or so prior, laughing and eating take-out sushi before she couldn’t be bothered to eat anymore- much more interested in Ryan’s mouth and her body in his hands.

“Here.” Ryan surprised her by sitting right beside her, placing the glass of water on the table. Meg didn’t reach for it, just turned to face him. He was siting closer to her than he had intended, that was clear by the blush on his face once she had turned and nearly bumped her nose on his chin.

“I’m sorry.” She said, reaching up to pull off her glasses and wipe her eyes harshly. “I’m so sorry Ryan.”

He swallowed. “Clearly we have a lot to talk about.”

“Huh. You think.” Meg forced herself to laugh, and finally reached for the water on the table. Ryan shifted back a bit and the two found comfort separately, even though their legs still brushed together every time one or the other would fidget and move.

“I’m sorry.” Ryan said, after a few more moments of silence. “I shouldn’t have just… paid you like that- it was honestly just a reflex, which I know sounds awful but- it was a real date. That’s what I want you to know. It was completely a real date and I don’t want you to ever think that I think of you as…” he trailed off, looking down into his lap.

“I understand.” She said. “Ryan- look it was stupid, okay? I shouldn’t have blown up at you but… I was… afraid- okay? I was scared because ever since I started seeing you I’ve been breaking all my rules and it _scares_ me.”

“Rules?” Ryan frowned. “What rules?”

Me looked at Ryan, taking in the blank expression on his face. Then, something inside of her changed immediately, flipping like a light switch. How could she have been so stupid to assume before hand?

Ryan didn’t have a _single_ idea of what her job entailed. Ryan didn’t have the slightest thought that just maybe, she had been treating him differently to all the others. Meg had just assumed they were on the same page- but Ryan had no idea. He wasn’t even on the same bookshelf.

“Escorting… Ryan… it’s complicated.” She said quietly, taking a second to collect herself and level her voice. “I don’t… you’re not supposed….” She trailed off, looking off into nothing as to avoid the piercing eye contact he was giving her. “I am an escort Ryan. I’m professional. I don’t ever get personal with the clients- not the way we run things at The Know. No real names, no numbers, facebook, email. No hickeys, marks. Most escorts for Ashley work anywhere between ten and thirty guys at a time. Never stay over. Never accept drinks or food. Never arrange to meet outside of set appointments. Never let feelings get involved.” At the last one listed, she was courageous enough to look up at his bewildered expression and a small, nervous smile grew across her face. “I know, it’s a little extensive.”

“So… all those times that you stayed over- you were breaking Ashley’s rules?”

“My rules.” She corrected him. “Ashley guides and advises us but lets us do whatever we’re comfortable with to most extents. I just like to keep as much distance between myself and clients as possible to remain professional but… then I met you.” She scoffed, and he reached forwards quickly to grab her hand.

“Meg- I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” She interrupted. “Honestly, Ryan? I used to love this job so much. It’s been my life for _five years_ , and I never thought that I would ever even… _think_ about quitting. But then… I met you, didn’t I?” she laughed. “I met you and now I’m no good at it. I have no passion for it- because all that energy and emotion is going directly into you.”

After that, Ryan was quiet for a very long time. Meg didn’t say anything either, but every few seconds he would stroke her hand with his thumb and bite his lip anxiously.

Eventually, he looked her in the eyes again.

“A year ago I got out of a very… rough relationship. I haven’t dated anyone since because I didn’t want to ever become… so dependent on someone else again. I’ve been asked out and set up so many times since but nobody has ever… _felt_ right- you know? And then… Geoff gave me this number because he thought I was going to spontaneously combust from sexual frustration and because of that, I met you. And that’s become the new reason why I don’t see anyone- because you’re all I can think about.”

“Ryan.” Meg grinned, despite herself. There was so much more they probably needed to talk about, but suddenly, it didn’t matter at all. Meg leant her head against Ryan’s shoulder and he kissed her on the temple. “You’re special. You know that? You’re the only client I’ve ever…” _loved_ danced around her lips, but she restrained herself. Neither of them were ready for such a grand omission, so Meg swallowed her words and instead nuzzled further into the stubbly skin of Ryan’s jaw.

“Stay here tonight?” Ryan asked, suddenly. When she sat up abruptly and stared at him, he elaborated. “Not in like a sex way- just… just stay with me? Just me and you?”

Meg smiled. “Okay.” She agreed. “Sleepover. No sex. I’ll give it a try.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The next morning, showered and stuffed into the same clothes from the night before without the lingering of sexual satisfaction and regret, Meg sat in the leather passenger seat of Ryan’s gleaming Mercedes and he drove her home. For the first time, the client was _taking her home_.

But then, she remembered- Ryan wasn’t really a client at all any more.

“Come up for coffee?” she offered and Ryan accepted. The simplest offer in the world, yet nothing had ever unsettled Meg’s stomach so much or made her throat drier.

Ryan followed her quietly up to her apartment, and politely said nothing as Meg took in a deep breath before turning the key in the lock.

“Sorry if it’s messy.” She said awkwardly as the door swung open. “I… I don’t usually do this kind of thing.”

Ryan looked around as casually as a sort-of-dating-partner would look around their significant other’s home. However, Meg instantly felt like he was scrutinising every single part of her. She instantly noticed every imperfect part- the empty ice cream carton on the coffee table and the one pillow that had faded more than the other in the washer, the used glass on the kitchen counter and the smear on the French doors leading out to her balcony.

“It’s a really nice place.”

Meg gulped. “I’ll put the coffee on. Then… I want to show you something.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Becoming Doll was, and always had been a lengthy process. So, when Meg moved into her apartment three and a half years ago, she had been overjoyed at the thought of a walk in closet. It was something she had never even seen in real life- and then, it was _hers_. A narrow slither of carpet between two giant racks of clothing.

When she saw the two empty gleaming racks for the first time, Meg knew exactly what she needed to do.

So the closet was split completely in half. On one side was _Meg_ \- her jeans and graphic t-shirts and boots and sneakers. Colourful hoodies and dresses with nerdy quotes across the chest. On the other side of the closet was _Doll_ \- expensive gowns and sparkling heels, stacks of wigs in different lengths and colours, particularly expensive underwear hung on silky French hangers and the six-hundred-dollar bathrobe Geoff had bought her the first time he had taken her for a weekend away.

“I see.” Ryan said. Meg wasn’t sure what kind of reaction she was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t for Ryan to awkwardly nod and say, “I see.”

“Who do you prefer?” she asked, watching him step further into the closet and run his fingers across the fabrics of both isles. It felt strange, inviting Ryan into her _closet_ like a fashion designer critiquing her tastes. He had never looked more out of place in all the time she had known him, stood between cheap and expensive fabrics.

“I’m sorry?”

Meg laughed. “Sorry, you can step out. I get that it’s a little weird.”

“It is.” He agreed, laughing awkwardly and stepping back into her bedroom. Meg sat down on the giant plush bed and slowly, Ryan joined her.

“You asked me who I preferred?” he said. Meg nodded.

“Yeah, you know- Meg or Doll. Which is your favourite?” it was a fair enough question, she thought. She wouldn’t be pleased nor annoyed at either outcome- but Ryan was staring at her so perplexed she may have asked him which dinner condiment was better for a car engine.

“Ryan?” she waved a hand in front of his face. “It’s not a trick question. Just… who do you like better?”

“Well, uh.” Ryan rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “I think that’s where you keep going wrong. Meg and Dolly- or sorry, _Doll._ They’re not as different as you think they are.” He told her. Meg frowned at him.

“They’re both equally what makes you.” He finished, reaching forwards gently to push a stray strand of her hair back behind her ear. His skin was warm against hers, and affectionately, he brushed the back of his fingers against her cheek. “You’re incredible as both.” He said. “And I’m not just saying so. I mean it.”

“So… what does this mean?” Meg asked. Ryan shrugged.

“I’m not sure. I like you- that’s what I’m certain on. And I think- well, I hope that you like me too.”

Meg smiled. “Yeah. So what- like, dating?”

“I suppose so.” He nodded. “Minus the cash part this time.”

“Alright.” She agreed. “Coffee then?”

“Oh _God_ yes please.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Meg sat nervously bouncing her leg up and down as the phone rang and rang and rang against her ear.

“Is she answering?” Ryan asked, stood smoking a cigarette against the cracked balcony door. Meg shook her head silently, but when he opened his mouth to speak again, she held up her hand to stop him.

“Ashley?”

Ryan stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray and pulled his own phone from his pocket. “I’ll give you a sec.” he said quietly, wandering off towards the bedroom.

“Meg? You okay?”

Meg bit her lip at the concern lingering in Ashley’s voice. Despite everything, making up with Ryan and finally being able to say how she felt- the guilt of how she had exploded at Ashley remained, ugly and lurking over her shoulder.

“Yeah. I’m okay. I’m… with Ryan.”

“Oh.” Ashley sounded surprised. “Like… working?”

“Nu-uh.” Meg’s eyes flitted over to the bedroom again, even though she couldn’t see him. “Like… as _us_.”

“Oh.” Ashley said again. Meg sighed.

“I’m so sorry, Ash. Really I am It’s just… I…”

“You fell in love with him.” Ashley finished for her. Meg bit her lip harder until she could taste the faintest lick of blood in her mouth. “ _Meg_.” The smile in her voice was apparent. “You think I didn’t know that _already_?”

Meg frowned. “Huh?”

“I’ve been there, honey.” Ashley sighed. “I know what it looks like and I knew straight away that you liked him a lot more than you were letting on. I’m not going to stop you from being happy- and if being with Ryan and trying things outside of work for a while is what does that, then I’m totally okay with it.”

Relief was the first feeling, and Meg laid back into her couch. It felt almost as if a solid weight had been lifted from her chest, risen up to the ceiling where it dissipated like condensation. “Oh, Ash- you don’t know how much I needed to hear that.” She said. “I just…” she lowered her voice, hoping Ryan couldn’t hear her in the other room. “I think I really love him; you know? Like… for real.”

“I understand.” Ashley laughed. Meg had never been so happy to hear Ashley laugh. “Does this mean I’m going to be losing my super-star?”

Meg laughed, but there was the faintest lingering sadness within it. “I think so.” She replied. “Even if it’s only temporary. I just don’t want to screw this up- you know?”

“I know.” Ashley said, and Meg believed her completely. “Don’t worry about it, kid. Fill your boots- let me know how it goes. I’ll take your profile down but I won’t delete it. Not until you’re ready.”

“Thank you, Ash.” Meg grinned to nobody, stretching in her couch and feeling the cool calm of relief wash over her like a tide. “Seriously.”

“No problem. But, uh, Meg-”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t…” Ashley paused, and Meg could imagine her at her desk, leant forwards in her hands with her lip clasped between her teeth in deep thought. “Don’t ever feel like you need to be… _ashamed_ of your career, or the things you’ve done. Whether you stop or continue- that _has_ to be up to you. Not Ryan. You know that, right?”

Meg picked at her nails between her teeth, thankful again that Ryan was in the other room and likely couldn’t hear them. “Yeah.” She nodded, even though Ashley couldn’t see her. “I know Ash. I’ll… keep it in mind.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

More than anything in the world, Meg loved surprises.

So, when Ryan showed up to her apartment unannounced the following Thursday with a bouquet of flowers and a card with promises of a gift, Meg couldn’t help but get excited. It wasn’t her birthday- and it wasn’t Christmas, but there Ryan was, wearing his expensive watch and smiling in her doorway.

She invited him in and grabbed a can of diet coke out of the fridge before setting the beautiful lilies in a vase and opening the card as he watched her with an excitable expression.

“What?” she asked, pausing before opening the card (white, with red hearts over the front).

“Nothing.” Ryan smirked. It obviously wasn’t nothing, and unable to contain her excitement anymore, Meg unfolded the card. She was confused, for a moment, as two slips of paper fell out- before she held them to her face and her eyes lit up.

“Train tickets- wait!” she read the tiny black printed words. “We’re going to the _Hamptons?”_

Ryan grinned as Meg rushed towards him, and the two hugged tightly. “I thought I’d surprise you.” He said with a smile, holding her by the waist even as she pulled away. “You know… a sort of, sorry-I’m-the-reason-you’re-now-unemployed-gift.”

“You’re the best, Ryan.” Meg beamed, standing the car up beside the vase of flowers and holding the train tickets in her hands. “Honestly, you’re the fucking _best_.”

“Please.” Ryan shrugged. “It was the least I could do.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos&Comments appreciated as always!
> 
> Q: Do you think things will get better for Meg & Ryan now? Do you think there's more to go wrong? Do you think Meg will take Ashley's warning seriously? Does Meg need to tell her friends about her career?


	8. Short Stay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meg and Ryan take the Hamptons. Not everything goes to plan, and Meg finds herself finally having to make some decisions.

Part Eight: Short-Stay

 

 

Meg had done romantic weekends a few times before. However, every trip had one thing in common- and that was her job. (Or, ex job.) She’d only ever been on three or four, each with Geoff Ramsey and a pre-determined fee for a whole weekend of her services. So, there was no wonder she found her heart was racing as she watched from the window as their carriage pulled into the station.

Ryan, whether he had noticed her internal panic or not, instantly relaxed Meg by reaching over and clasping their hands together.

The house they were staying in was beautiful. It was like something out of an episode of _Keeping Up With The Kardashians_ with its vast emptiness. Her footsteps echoed as she entered the giant main room and suddenly, Meg couldn’t help but feel more than out of place in her t-shirt and brightly coloured skirt combo. This house was worthy of pearls and soft fabrics. This house was not made with any intention for her to ever set foot inside it.

“You okay?” Ryan’s hand was warm and reliable at the small of her back and instantly, Meg felt the stiffness and tension ebb away from her shoulders.

“You know.” She spun around suddenly, allowing him to wrap firm arms around her hips. “I was looking up this place online and I thought I read something about a _Jacuzzi_.”

“A Jacuzzi?” Ryan jutted out his bottom lip, pretending as if he was pondering seriously over the matter. “Well. No point letting that go to waste, I suppose.”

Without warning, he bent down and lifted Meg into his arms and over his shoulder, running with her out onto the private veranda, Meg laughing and hollering and slapping him playfully on the back the entire way. It didn’t matter if this giant beast of a house hadn’t been made for her. Ryan had the gift to make her feel as if she fit in anywhere and everywhere they went.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Hey?” Ryan asked quietly, as the two laid in bed beside each other. His skin was still flushed a soft pink and the sweat hadn’t dried from his brow but already, he wanted to talk, so Meg obliged. She rolled over to face him, brushing the hair out of his face adoringly. “Yeah?”

Ryan’s voice was a whisper in the darkness of the bedroom: “I want to stay here forever.”

Meg smiled. “Yeah, me too.”

“We could do it, you know.” He replied. “We could just… up and leave. Move away and live in this giant house forever.”

Meg’s nose wrinkled and she shook her head. “I don’t know about that.” She swiped her thumb across his cheek softly. “This house is way too big for just the two of us. We’d get lost.”

“Hm.” He paused, for a minute or more. “I suppose you’re right.”

“Huh?” Meg had already lost train of their conversation, far more content to rub her hands through Ryan’s soft hair until they both fell asleep. It was their second night in the Hamptons and it had been just as blissful as the first. In a way, she didn’t want to leave- but the Hamptons was nothing if not quiet and she did slightly long for the usual hustle and bustle of the city.

“About staying here.” Ryan explained. “We’d probably just start off with an apartment rather than a giant mansion.”

“Maybe we should start off in the city.” Meg laughed. “You know. Work from there for a while before we up and leave to the Hamptons in the dead of the night without saying goodbye to anybody.”

“Or that.”

Meg laughed again, before leaning forwards and kissing Ryan on the lips softly. “I’m really glad you brought me here though.” She whispered. “It’s beautiful.”

“I used to come here with my ex.” Ryan said suddenly, eyes darting over to Meg when she went stiff underneath him. “No- not like that, uh- wait- I’ll explain.” He stammered. Meg said nothing, but inside she felt like all the wind had been sucked completely out of her, and her stomach flipped and twisted as Ryan licked his dried lips and tried to organise his words. “She had family out here.” He explained. “We’d come to visit them but… she didn’t get on with them very well so the trip was always stressful. We’d race through this side of town and never get to stop and… _enjoy_ it, you know? So when it was over I knew that I wanted someone special who I could take here to just… enjoy the calm.”

“Oh.” Meg said quietly.

“Oh.” Ryan repeated.

Meg didn’t say anything else, but she did relax and scoot back over to lay on his chest. At the same time, Ryan shifted his arm so he could tuck it around her and the two laid together, lulled to sleep in the comfortable long silence of the Hamptons tide.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

On their third night, they didn’t go out for dinner. Meg sat on the sofa with a simmering excitement as Ryan cooked up a mystery meal, presented at the kitchen table with lit candles and fresh flowers and expensive sparkling white.

“Aw, Rye.” Meg cooed, twirling pasta around her fork. “You didn’t have to go to all this trouble.”

“Please.” Ryan shrugged. “It was nothing. Barely took me five hours.”

Meg glared at him playfully. “Glory hunter.”

“Can you blame me?” Ryan asked with a smirk. “Clearly I’m putting in all this hard work, therefore I should receive a valuable reward.”

“Fairs fair.” Meg smiled. “Eat your pasta, and we’ll see about your reward after desert.”

Dinner flowed as easy as the expensive wine he bought her did, and Meg didn’t feel unnerved for a second that Ryan didn’t touch a single drop of it. She was at the point of comfort with him, where she would happily get black out drunk and trust him to tuck her into bed.

But black-out drunk wasn’t on her to do list at the Hamptons. They each took brief showers, separately, before falling into bed soft and half-clothed together, laid flat on their backs and staring up at the darkness of the ceiling. For a second, the room was completely encapsulated in darkness, and Meg missed the constant spotlights of the city from her apartment.

“Would you ever go back?” Ryan asked her suddenly.

“To New York?” Meg frowned. “Of course. All my stuff is there.”

“No.” Ryan breathed a quiet laugh, reaching around to tuck her under his arm. Meg rested her head in the centre of his chest, and hummed quiet in content as he ran his fingers through her hair. “Back to escorting?”

Meg shrugged against him. “Probably.” She answered, truthfully. “I admire it so much, even still. I’d always go back if I wanted it badly enough- married, girlfriend, regardless.” She frowned as she felt Ryan’s hand still in her hair, and lifted her neck to look up at him through the darkness. “What?” she asked him. “Is that a problem?”

Ryan sighed, sat up and reached over to turn the small lamp on the night stand on, so a tiny glow of light illuminated their faces and Meg could read the disappointment in his expression.

“Ryan?” She asked through gritted teeth. “Is that a problem?”

Ryan watched her silently, toying with his lip between his teeth. Meg could see the thousands of unkind words brimming at his lips, but still despite, he was doing his best to hold each and every one in. However, Ryan’s eyes were far more expressive than his mouth ever was- and the blue glowing through the darkness was more than telling.

“You just can’t do it, can you?” Meg clenched her fists by her sides, letting out a short laugh despite the thick tears welling in the corner of her eyes. “You can’t fucking look at me without seeing every single person I’ve slept with for money? Is that it?”

“Meg, I didn’t say that-”

But it was too late. Meg had already scrambled out of the bed in fear of what Ryan didn’t have to say, thin silk pyjama top wrapped around her tightly.

“Where are you going?” Ryan asked from the bed, as she fumbled around on the floor for her matching shorts and stuffed her feet into her familiar Ugg boots. “Meg?” he sat up straighter, blankets falling away from his softly toned chest as he reached out to her. Meg cringed at the faint red marks littering the space around his left nipple, knowing she had put them there. “Where are you going?” he repeated.

Meg opened the bedroom door, and pushed her hair back behind her ears. “I need some air.” She lied. “That’s all.”

Ryan didn’t follow her. The next morning, when he awoke- Meg, along with each and every belonging she had packed for their trip, was gone.

 

 

* * *

 

 

_From: Barbara Dunkelman_

_Hey Meg! Heard you’ve been back in New York City for a few days. Ashley said something about you leaving the agency for some dreamboat. We should totally catch up! Coffee? Xxx_

 

* * *

 

 

Meg groaned when she read the text, wanting nothing more than to shut her phone off again and continue to cry into delivery-sushi whilst she watched re-runs of _Real Housewives._ However, the endless roll of reality TV divorces was making her feel worse, and there were only so many California rolls she could stuff into her mouth before the taste started to go bland.

She looked at her dry skin and dull eyes in the mirror. Perhaps a coffee would be best.

A few hair ties and an exfoliating face-wash later, Meg threw on a pair of jeans and an oversized hoodie and lazily strolled towards the coffee house where the girls from the agency would always meet. It was a fairly classy place, and she knew that she would be out of place with her Ugg boots and loosely braided her, but Meg was past the point of caring. As long as she didn’t see Ryan out on the city streets, she didn’t care about anyone seeing the way she looked.

“Meg! Are you okay?”

Perhaps she looked a little more casual than she originally intended.

Meg ordered an extra-large latte with plenty of foam and chocolate sprinkles, a luxury she hadn’t indulged in for months. She’d been so obsessed with fitness and yoga and toning to appeal to the ‘right’ kind of guy- but what was the point now? She was down both a job _and_ a relationship- if you could call what her and Ryan had anything of the sort.

“How’s work?” she asked Barbara.

“Amazing.” _BlawnDee_ grinned at her. “Honestly, I have way too much to thank you for. I’ve got so many clients I can barely keep up- I did a shoot with Jon the other day, he was saying that he thinks I could be a model! Like a real one, past escorting. But I think I’ll stick with this for a few years to build up like… a portfolio, you know? But yeah- the other day, Arryn and I worked a threesome gig together with this guy- he was _so_ dreamy, honestly. He said-”

Meg faded off after that point, staring vacantly into Barbara’s face and it shifted and morphed into one she would’ve recognised in the mirror a year or so ago. So much youth and innocence and ignorance. Meg could put money on the belief that Barbara had never had her heart broken. Barbara with her blonde hair and wide eyes and long, slim figure. Barbara _could_ be a model, probably. Meg had always been told she was far too short and not at all pretty enough.

Meg was an escort, through and through. It was what she had been designed for, with a more curved body shape and a penchant for performing that wasn’t quite up to standard for _actresses_. There wasn’t much else she could ever do. She didn’t have an _out_ when things got tough- not like Barbara.

She had been lucky enough to have found her calling at a young age, and then thrown it all away for a man who couldn’t even see past it.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

A few days and many missed calls from Ryan later, Meg headed over to Gavin, Michael and Lindsay’s apartment again. It wasn’t game night, thankfully- as she wasn’t sure if she was ready for such a façade of happiness. No, Michael had taken Lindsay to a football game and Gavin was feeling bored, so he invited her over for a few beers and a talk.

Meg loved Gavin, in her own way. The two had always gotten on well, and she wondered why she had never before considered sleeping with him. He was attractive enough- successful too. He shared an apartment with two other people because he loved to cling onto the familiarity, but Gavin had a bank balance that more than rivalled hers and a penchant for expensive things. Gavin _was_ the executive dream she usually got paid by.

However, when he looked into her eyes and their lips brushed together, Meg could think of nothing worse.

“I’m sorry.” She backed up. “I shouldn’t’ve even come.”

“It’s fine.” Gavin shrugged, propping his feet up on the coffee table and sipping his beer. “I didn’t invite you here to _shag_ , Meg. You’re my mate. If I wanted a shag, I’d have texted Michael to come home early.” He winked, and Meg rolled her eyes. She hated Michael and Gavin and Lindsay and their endless innuendos. She was their best friend, and even she couldn’t figure out if they were actually sleeping together or not.

“I’ve just had a lot on my mind.” She shrugged. Gavin smiled.

“Ryan?” he asked. Meg nodded. “Honestly, Meg- he really is a great guy. I mean, don’t tell him I kissed you or anything, as he can be pretty scary when he wants to be. But yeah. He’s a proper nice bloke. Been through some tough stuff, but he came out the end.”

“His ex.” Meg nodded. “Lindsay was saying there was a pretty rough break-up involved.”

“Rough is an understatement.” Gavin scoffed. “He was a wreck, everyone at the company could see it. Eventually, Geoff forced him to see a doctor and then Ryan got better. Everyone had their speculation about what he had but then I saw his empty pill box on the side of his desk one day when he wasn’t careful.”

“What was it?” Meg’s heart raced, calling out for Ryan from across the city. It was infuriating, how much she couldn’t hate him, even for a second.

“Depression.” Gavin said flippantly. “He was _actually_ depressed; can you bloody believe it? Better now though- but I think he’s got one of those things about people leaving him, you know? Separation anxiety or whatever they call it.”

The colour drained from Meg’s face as she thought back to the Hamptons, stuffing her things into a suitcase and catching a train in the middle of the night because she couldn’t bear to face the shame on Ryan’s face. Gavin was frowning, watching as she collapsed from the inside out, and a few tears gathered in her eyes.

“Meg?” he asked, a soft sort of seriousness Meg had never heard before coating his voice. “Are you alright?”

“No.” She answered truthfully, for the first time. “I’ve-I’ve got to see Ryan.” She stood abruptly, Gavin watching her confusedly as she grabbed her bag and rushed towards the door.

“Meg!” He called. “I’ll call you a cab or something- just wait!”

However, Gavin was too late. Meg had new purpose in her heart, and with little to no regret of leaving Gavin completely in the dust, she raced out of the building and hailed the first cab she saw.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Ryan wasn’t at his place, so in a frenzy, Meg searched her call log for his name and called him up as she briskly walked through the city, wiping the tears from her eyes as she hailed a cab back to her apartment.

“Ryan!” She didn’t even wait for a hello once she heard the click of the phone connecting. “Where are you?”

“I’m on my way home- I went to a late lunch meeting with Geoff.” Ryan said, concern spiking in his voice when he registered the panic in hers. “Why- what is it? What’s wrong? What do you need?”

“You.” Meg answered honestly. “I need you, Rye.”

She could hear Ryan swallowing around the lump in his throat. “I’ll be at your place in ten.” He said. “I’ll be there.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Meg was practically sweating as she approached her corridor, because that day of all the wretched days in the history of time, the elevator had to break for the first time since she had moved in. Meg had sprinted up eight floors, panting and desperate, only to find that Ryan had already arrived, sat on her doorstep with his head leant back against the front door.

“Meg!” his eyes lit up and he scrambled to his feet when he saw her. “Are you okay?”

“Come inside.” Meg fumbled for her key in the back pocket of her jeans. “I- we need to talk, okay?”

“Okay.” Ryan nodded, reaching forward to touch her shoulder gently as she pushed the front door open. It was chaste enough, but the touch of his fingertips sent electricity through Meg’s body. “As long as you’re okay. You really had me scared for a second, back there.”

“I’m sorry.” Meg apologised, as Ryan closed the door behind them. He stood awkwardly in front of it, watching her with frightened but still somehow softened eyes. It was strange, how unsure they suddenly felt with each other when barely a week previous Meg felt like she couldn’t be away from him for a single second.

The urge was returning, with every second she stood opposite him. Meg couldn’t stop herself- mainly because she didn’t care to- she ran at Ryan with everything she had and wrapped her arms around his neck. He caught her, lifting her entirely off the ground so she could wrap her legs around his waist, toned arms across her back, holding her tightly.

“I’m so sorry.” He said quietly into her neck. “Meg. I’m so sorry. I don’t think poorly of you in any way for your career. I’m sorry I ever made you feel like you weren’t anything short of complete perfection.”

“Shut up,” Meg sniffed. “It was my fault. I… jumped to conclusions and I put words in your mouth when I shouldn’t have. I know I’m asking a lot with my past and us and… I’m just sorry, okay?”

“Meg it was my fault-”

“No!” Meg pulled away, leaning back to look Ryan in the eyes. “It isn’t your fault.” She said, and it was clear almost instantly that she didn’t just mean their fall out. Ryan nearly dropped her, she felt the shift in his grip and climbed down so she was back on solid ground, pressing her hands into his forearms. “Look at me, Ryan.” She said quietly as he looked away, far behind her as if he could hide the hurt on his face. Ryan turned when she squeezed his arms and looked at her with wet eyes and a firm bite on his bottom lip, as if he could clasp his mouth closed and hold back the tears from escaping. “It isn’t your fault.” She choked, tears of her own brimming in her eyes and falling when his would refuse to. “It was never your fault, alright? Any of it. And I won’t let you believe for a second that it was _ever_ your fault.”

Slowly, like a decaying tree with curled branches and dead root, Ryan folded until he was low enough to rest his face against her shoulder, Meg stretched on her tiptoes to try and accommodate the height difference. Ryan didn’t seem to care, stooped awkwardly as he laid in her shoulder and she rubbed at his hair, constantly whispering over and over that it wasn’t his fault and that they would both be okay. They would make it, as long as they could find a way to stick together.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Afterwards, Meg made coffee.

“I hate coffee.” Ryan said as he sipped it, leant back against the couch with Meg tucked under his arm.

“What the fuck?” she craned her neck to look up at him. “Who the fuck hates _coffee_.”

“I do.” He shrugged, and took another sip. “I hate the taste. But… recently I haven’t been able to stop drinking it.”

“Addiction.” Meg eyed her cigarette packet, still open and abandoned on the coffee table where she had left it days and days before. How long had it been, since she had craved nicotine? It hardly seemed to cross her mind anymore. “Gets to us all.”

“Hm.” Ryan hummed, and Meg smiled as she felt the vibrations of his chest against the side of her face. She could hear his hear beating against her ears, and it was suffocating beautiful. He was there- Ryan was _real_. He was living and breathing and he was doing it all for _her_.

“You might be right about that.” He said. “But… it’s hard to be mad. Not when there’s so many incredible things to be addicted to.”

She could feel him looking at her, but kept her eyes tightly closed. She understood completely, without the need of any words. Ryan’s hand moved to stroke through her hair and Meg felt, for the first time in her life, completely and utterly content.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End!
> 
> Well- sort of. The Epilogue to this story will be posted next week and will go over what happened next for Meg and for Ryan!


	9. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a huuuuuuuuuuuge THANK YOU to everyone who supported this story, followed , bookmarked, commented and kudos-ed. You guys are the reason I write so much of this trash, and I'm so thankful for your support! Hope you liked the ending of Meg and Ryan's story. Let me know in the comments.

 

 

Epilogue

 

 

“So, Meg- what is it you do for a living again?”

“Oh, I’m a secretary for the same tech company Ryan works at in the city while studying an extended master’s degree in media and journalism.” Meg recited the statement just the same as she had in practice. She grinned widely in Ryan’s direction, pearly white teeth sparkling against the hanging chandelier in the centre of the dinner table as the smile was reciprocated. It was so rehearsed it was laughable, but Ryan didn’t bat an eyelid.

“Office romance was it?” Ryan’s father asked.

“Hm.” Ryan nodded around a mouthful of brisket. “Something like that.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Lying to Ryan’s parents was an obvious choice. Meg’s mind hadn’t changed and Ryan still wasn’t ashamed of her, but his parents were as Southern as Southern got, so the decision to bend the truth was for their own good. Ryan and Meg both laughed hysterically once they escaped the ranch in his shiny new convertible, giggling like children who had managed to sneak out of after curfew.

Meg had no qualms lying to Ryan’s parents. However, six months into their relationship she had made the decision to be honest with everyone else. That included her best friends, more so than anyone. So, Meg called an impromptu game night at her place- something that _never_ occurred due to her previous paranoia of prying eyes catching something they weren’t supposed to see.

She sat Michael and Lindsay and Gavin down, and after two beers found the courage to open her mouth and speak.

“I’m an escort.” She said, in the middle of a discussion about which Mario Party they were going to play. “Or sorry- I was an escort. I’m sort of on an extended break, employment wise. But yeah… I was never a night-time secretary for some ominous company. I was an escort.”

The three of them were silent for a few seconds, looking between her and each other awkwardly before Lindsay leant backwards into the couch, and after a lengthy sip from her beer, said, “I knew it. Cough up my fifty bucks, you fucks.”

“God sake Meg! Why couldn’t you have been a porn-star like I thought!” Gavin whined, arching off the couch so he could pull his fat wallet from his back pocket. “Yeah.” Michael grumbled, rifling through his own bills. “I had some serious money on cam girl. I really thought it was gonna be internet related.”

“Wait…” Meg frowned. “You fuckers were _betting_ on me?”

“Meg.” Lindsay raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t seriously believe we were dumb enough to believe that night time secretary shit? You made _way_ too much money for that to be plausible.”

“I was briefly worried you were a drug dealer.” Gavin admitted.

“You know, now I think about it- I could’ve sworn Ryan was browsing some escorting website at work one day. I thought he was just waiting to jerk off in the bathroom or something.” Michael shrugged. “Who woulda thunk it that Ryan was brave enough to dial an escorting service without hyperventilating and hanging up.”

“Do you kiss on the mouth?” Gavin asked, handing the money over to Lindsay, who was counting with a steely suspicious glare, like she didn’t trust her own husband and too-close-for-comfort best friend. “You know, like-”

“-It’s not like _Pretty_ _Woman_ , Gavin.” Lindsay rolled her eyes. “Meg’s probably a professional. All professionals kiss on the mouth.”

“What makes you the fucking queen of escorting?” Michael glared around his beer. Lindsay shrugged. “I’ve been doing my research.”

“ _What?_!”

“Enough!” Meg yelled from her position in the armchair. She sat up, leaning forwards to put her beer on the coffee table, and looked at her friends with a strange feeling of both relief and confusion. “How did you all… figure it out and keep it quiet?”

“We assumed you’d tell us in your own time.” Gavin shrugged. “You know… we’d hoped it’d be sooner rather than later but… you’re a complex one, Turney. Hard to predict- I mean, you shacked up with _Ryan_ bloody _Haywood_ for God’s sake. You’re _way_ cooler than him!”

“I predicted that one,” Lindsay scoffed. “C’mon. They’re perfect for each other.”

“That was another bet.” Michael chipped in. “Lindsay’s been rinsing us both dry recently.”

“I can’t believe you guys.” Meg laughed, because she was unsure of what else to do. “You fucking knew I was up to something the whole time. You’re smarter than I give you credit for.”

“We’re your best friends, Meg.” Gavin smiled. “Even if you don’t think we do- we’ll always know.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Meg looked around at her apartment, finally stripped of every piece of furniture, every scrape and bump of life it had once held smoothed over with clean drywall and fresh paint. It was surreal, seeing it the way she had the first time she had ever set foot inside, a vast wasteland of wooden flooring and giant windows.

“You okay?” Ryan’s voice was soft behind her. Meg didn’t need to turn around to know he was there and nodded silently, relaxing when she felt his large hands settle on her shoulders. Meg tilted her head back and rested it against his chest. “I can imagine this is weird.” He said.

“I had a lot of good times here.” Meg eyed the wall, bright squares of space where her old wall of photos used to hang. They were bubbled wrapped and packed in a box on the back of a moving truck right now, ready to unload at her new home.

Well. _Their_ new home.

It had been her idea to move in together. It felt right, after six months of constant sleepovers. They’d been together for over a hundred and eighty nights- and Meg could barely remember a handful of them that were not spent together. Her and Ryan were so inseparable, that it was becoming uneconomical to keep two high rise New York City apartments when they would be just as happy in one. Ryan had offered to unload his steely show home so they could stay in her place, but from the moment she had had the idea to take her and Ryan’s relationship to the next level, Meg knew it was time to say a pained goodbye to the place where she had once evolved.

It wasn’t really Meg’s home, that apartment. Meg’s home was Michael and Lindsay and Gavin’s couch or Ashley’s office or the coffee shop or Ryan’s bed. Meg’s home was anywhere but that apartment- because that apartment belonged completely and utterly to _Doll_.

“You were right, Ryan.” Meg said suddenly, eyes fixed on the darkened spot of wooden floor where she remembered Gavin knocking over a full bottle of nail polish remover. “Doll and Meg, we were the same person, really. But not anymore, now, that part of my life seems so far away that it’s almost as if she has moulded into this whole other me, and it’s finally time to…say goodbye.” Meg sniffed, half out of habit. She was expecting to cry- she always when things ended- but startled herself to find her eyes dry. Maybe it wasn’t such a terrible thing to have endings. Maybe sometimes, endings are just new beginnings.

“I’m gonna miss her.” Meg looked around the room for what felt to be the last time, engraving to memory the dust marks where her TV had stood and the ridges in the floor from that perfect little one-person armchair. “Doll. She was so… fabulous. And exciting. And _beautiful_.”

“She was.” Ryan agreed. “But Meg- you’re still her. Meaning you can still be all of those things.”

“-besides,” Ryan leant down to rest his chin on the top of her head as his arms came to wrap around her warmly. Meg reached up to clutch his forearms, which held strong around her collarbones.

“I think I always liked Meg a tiny bit better anyway.”

She tilted her head to look up at his face, and her mouth broke into a smile. It was impossible to ever look at Ryan without something lighting up inside of her, and then was no different, standing in the shell of the apartment that used to be hers. It was time to move on- Meg had always been a firm believer of moving with the times and evolving at every opportunity. Ryan’s apartment, although familiar to her, was cold and sharp and new and shiny.

Ryan had given her a home just by being with her. Meg wanted to return the favour.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Meg's leaving RT. Which i suppose is kind of ironic that this is the last chapter of the story, and Meg's left her job at The Know in this little universe too.
> 
> Change is often bittersweet. Sometimes, things change and at first- they seem like they really really suck. But things always get better. We say goodbye to the old and step into a better, brighter new.
> 
> Things worked out for Meg here pretty okay. Hopefully, real life parallels this for her.

**Author's Note:**

> Liked it? Please leave kudos!
> 
> Really liked it? Didn't? Questions? Leave a comment!! Please!!
> 
> Or, for more turnwood, raywood, mavin and others check out the rest of my AO3. General RTAH stuff (shippy and non-shippy), check out my tumblr - PAPERSK1N.tumblr.com


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